


Until Tomorrow

by unnbrella



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Partners in Crime, Zombie Apocalypse, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-18 18:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11880726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unnbrella/pseuds/unnbrella
Summary: Even through their bleakest of moments, they rely on the other and that's how they've always gotten by. When all they have left in the world is each other, Luke and Clementine struggle to survive in a world full of death, despair, and decay.





	1. Strategies

**Author's Note:**

> Clementine is 17 in this story.

Clementine resists the urge to run. Instead, she makes an effort to land on soft feet with every step that she takes. She moves swiftly as she advances further forward, grunting quietly as she lands again. She doesn’t look down for a moment as she continues to vault across the countless openings between each building.

The moon is full, casting a cold blue glow on the dark streets below and providing the only source of light for her to see the silhouettes of the rooftops in front of her.

She’s not afraid of falling. She’s done this many times before. Instead, she feels a sense of excitement as the breeze brushes past her face with every leap, further loosening the stray curls that peek from under her baseball cap. The chill air that envelopes her body is thrilling, and she doesn’t mind the occasional raindrop soaking into her skin.

Adrenaline courses through her veins as she braces another landing with both hands, picking herself up again in an instant.

Finally, her destination creeps into view as she hikes up a steep rooftop, jumping down onto the flat platform below. She approaches the edge at a slow pace, panting from the trek.

Her eyes gaze over her surroundings, and the sound of snarls and groans from down below reach her ears again. Walkers line the streets, shuffling aimlessly in their places. The road is littered with them, but Clementine’s eyes only focus on the building at the corner of the block in the distance. She’s only a few rooftops away. Shouldn’t be too long now.

The sound of static snatches her attention and she instinctively reaches for the device on her belt.

“ _Clem? How’s it lookin’ over there_?”

She holds the walkie-talkie to her mouth. “I got it in my sights.” She responds, still catching her breath. “The place is surrounded.”

“ _You gonna go for it_?”

“Yeah,” she responds, exhaling. She observes the diner down below, already planning her route in her head. “Should be able to get into the roof from here.”

“ _Yeah- yeah. I see it, too. A few blocks down the way. Just holler at me when you’re in. I’m on my way over_.”

Clementine lowers the walkie-talkie and moves to clip it back onto her belt, before the static picks up again.

“ _And Clem_?”

She raises the device once more. “Yeah?”

“ _Be careful_.”

She purses her lips together, nodding faintly. “Yeah,” she says in a low voice, “you too.”

Cautious not to make a sound, she leaps down from the rooftop onto the next one, keeping an eye on the walker infested streets below as she gets nearer. She figures they shouldn’t be able to see her from up here in the darkness. Vaulting down off the last platform, she smoothly lands on the roof of the diner and dusts her hands off.

The area by the front door is infested by the dead, including the back alley where the only other door is located. It’s raining lightly for now, but the weather is sure to pick up within the next couple of minutes. It wouldn’t do her any good if she smeared herself in guts to get there. It’s too risky getting the smell washed off from the rain, so she had opted to take the high road. Using the cover of darkness is a beneficial tactic, anyway. She likes it better that way.

The building she’s on is only one storey high, and the chorus of moans below are now deafening her ears after getting so close to them. Crouching low so as not to become noticed by any lingering walkers, Clementine approaches the skylight window and attempts to yank it open with both hands. When it doesn’t budge, she jams her knife into the opening and pushes, but the thing refuses to pry. Hacking it open with her axe would surely attract the walkers that roam just a few feet below her.

“Shit,” she mumbles, then reaches for her walkie-talkie and holds it in front of her mouth. “Skylight’s busted. Must be jammed from the inside.”

“ _I figured as much_ ,” came the immediate reply. It would’ve been too easy. “ _Guess that calls for plan B_?”

“Yeah,” Clementine confirms, gazing aimlessly at the night sky above with a hand heavy on her hip.

“ _I was hoping you would say that_.”

She rolls her eyes, though she can’t help the amused smirk that manages to creep its way onto her lips.

The walkie-talkie delivers static again. “ _Alright… I see you. Remember, wait for the signal, then get_ -“

“-Get what we came for, and get out. Got it.” Clementine interrupts as she paces across the roof.

“ _Alright, get ready_.”

Clementine kneels near the edge, positioning herself directly on top of the door. A few suspenseful moments pass by as she stares at the walker infested road in front of her, the end of the city visible on the horizon. Her stomach grumbles while she waits.

Finally, she hears a faint sizzling sound as a red glow soars past her and her heartrate increases, adrenaline sparkling inside her. Forcing herself to be patient, she continues to peer down the street in anticipation. Two more sail above a second later, the flares landing a distance away from her down the road. The warm glow is like a beacon in the night.

When moaning walkers turn away and begin to stumble towards the light, Clementine frantically hops down from the roof and wastes no time in wedging her knife into the crack of the closed door. She doesn’t bother trying the handle first, assuming it’s most likely locked.

She uses the blade to push the button on the inside of the door and unlock it, swinging it open in one forceful push. Clementine makes a beeline for the kitchen at the back of the building while pulling out her pocket-sized flashlight and clamping it between her teeth.

She manages to catch a glance of the interior of the restaurant. It’s as typical as any diner with the red and white tiled floor and neon signs on the walls that stopped working a long time ago. Stools and tables are flipped over and various objects are scattered across the floor in a frantic, blood-stained mess.

She moves quickly, flinging open every cupboard and drawer she passes. Half of them are empty and she groans in frustration, the flashlight only providing her a slim amount of light in the pitch-dark room. Clementine shoves all the food she finds into her backpack; cans, boxes, jars, everything. She manages to clear out the entire kitchen in only a couple of minutes until her bag can barely close. She forcefully zips it up and strides back out to the restaurant.

On her way to the door, she freezes in her tracks when she catches sight of a bright red box bolted to the wall at the opposite side of the diner. There’s a small glass window on the front, revealing a case inside with a white cross on it. It’s a first aid compartment.

She hesitantly glances through the windows, noticing the walkers are still distracted by the flares outside. She looks back to the tempting box, biting her lip in thought. She only has a limited amount of time before the dead lose interest and come straight back to lingering outside the building.

Her backpack is overflowing, but medicine is a luxury that only gets harder to find as the days go on. The city is nearly picked clean. This is all that’s left of it.

She hurriedly runs across the restaurant towards it and begins to stick the tip of her knife through the compartment door, before she feels a bony hand on her shoulder and a loud growl sounds behind her. She shrieks, jumping in surprise and whipping around in an instant, knocking the walker into a wheeled cart that was stood behind him. He stumbles clumsily, the cart wheeling away and glass shattering as it falls off the surface and onto the hard tile floor.

Clementine lunges forward and plunges her knife into its eye socket, then again in its forehead as blood splatters on her face. Panicked from the noise that was just caused, she whips her head around to see a few straggling walkers through the windows, slowly making their way towards her. The rest of them are sure to follow within seconds.

“Fucking hell,” she mutters under her breath.

“ _What’s goin’ on in there, Clem_?”

Figuring she’s already drawn their attention and there’s no point in trying to be quiet anymore, she shatters the case with her axe in one swift motion, shielding her eyes with her forearm as glass shards scatter around her feet.

“Just a walker,” she pants into the device. “Fucker must’ve come from the bathrooms.” Clementine is already pacing back to the door, first aid kit in hand.

“ _Well, you best get outta there quick. They’re losin’ interest out here, and fast_.”

She tucks the kit between her rucksack and lower back, securing the straps tightly around her waist so it doesn’t slip out. When she swings open the door, she’s greeted by another rotting face with blood dripping from its teeth, snarling at her, and Clementine slices her axe through its skull in an instant.

Its raining harder now, just like they predicted. With the darkness and the bad weather, it’s gotten more difficult for her to identify her surroundings.

Countless walkers are flooding towards her now but she slowly advances down the road with every swing, downing them one after the other.

Clementine yells as she thrusts her hatchet into a walker’s skull, and forcefully pulls it down to the ground. She grips her weapon with both hands and aggressively yanks it out of its forehead. As she finishes it off, she notices in her peripheral vision an arrow plunging into another walker’s eye a short distance away from her, and audibly snapping its neck backwards.

She smirks. The sound of grunting and more launching arrows can be heard in the distance. She knows he’s with her somewhere.

She takes out another, slicing its head clean off its limping shoulders in one sharp swing.

“Clementine!”

She quickly scans the dark area, shielding her eyes with her arm. “Luke!” she calls, relieved from the sight of his figure in the distance.

“Get over here, let’s go!” He shouts to her over the sound of the rain and shrieks of the dead. He stands at the entrance of the alleyway next to the diner, crossbow in hand. He’s propping open the wired gate and beckoning her over with his arm.

Clementine sprints towards him. Luke fires more arrows through a couple of walkers in her path, covering her as she rushes through the gate.

“The ladder, hurry!” he yells to her.

Panting, she climbs to the top with Luke following close behind her, a walker clawing at his legs and just missing as the man pulls himself up. Numerous walkers crowd around the bottom of the ladder, and Clementine feels every one of her limbs shaking.

* * *

“What the hell happened back there?” Luke asks as soon as he closes the café door behind him, still catching his breath.

“I had it under control.” Clementine quickly strides to the end of the shop and heavily drops her backpack on the ground, avoiding looking back at him.

“It sure as hell didn’t look like it,” he scoffs, staring at her backside as she crouches down on the floor and opens her backpack.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was on my way out and there was a first aid kit on the wall so I went for it,” she explains. “And that’s when the walker attacked me.”

“You didn’t-“

“No,” she responds quickly, hostility in her tone. No, she didn’t get bit.

He sighs audibly. “Clem, the plan was to just grab the food and get out. _Quietly_. No dawdling.”

“I thought we could use the medicine!” she rises to a stand, turning to look at him with anger blooming in her eyes.

Neither of them need medical supplies at the moment, but there have been too many incidents where they needed aid and didn’t have access to it. She couldn’t risk regretting anything the next time one of them gets injured. Either way, they need as much resources as they can get right now.

Luke stressfully runs a hand through his hair and shifts his stance, his other hand on his hip.

“I took as much as I could, _like we said_. There’s no way we can risk going back there for anything.” Clementine defends.

It’s not like she could have left it and come back later, it would be too dangerous after what just happened. She saw the chance and she took it. Clementine exhales and a moment of silence lingers between them.

Luke lowers her voice dangerously, almost to a whisper. “ _Two seconds_ … and that’s all it takes.”

She knows what he means. That’s all it takes for something to go wrong. For one of them to get bit. She glares at him, annoyed, and her voice softens. “We got out of there, okay?”

Confirming that the conversation is over, Clementine turns her back to him without another word and grabs the whiskey bottle on top of the counter.

He ponders her statement. She’s right, they both made it out alive and no one got hurt. It could have gone a lot worse. The tense silence between them deflates his argument. “Fine,” he sighs, defeated. “You win.”

Unscrewing the bottle, Clementine plops herself on the floor and leans her back against the wall, taking a swig.

They had been living her for a few weeks now, in an old coffee shop they had taken refuge in from walkers when they first arrived in the city. It’s small in size with only a countertop and empty glass display case next to it, with absolutely no pastries inside like it was meant for, much to their disappointment.

A few tables and chairs were positioned off to the side too, but the two had moved those out and transformed it into a space to sleep.

“So, what’d you get?” Luke asks, sounding tired.

Clementine swallows the strong liquid again, the alcohol warming her insides. Leaning forward to drag her backpack closer to her, she pulls out the contents one by one and names each item as well as how many of them she obtained.

“And the first aid?” he gestures to the red case on the ground.

“Bandages, painkillers, morphine…” she lists, picking the items up and briefly observing each of them before throwing them back in the box. “You?”

Luke removes his rucksack from his back and zips it open, taking a seat next to her against the wall.

It was decided to be too risky if both of them went to one place together. That was one more person that could get spotted, so Luke had opted to scavenge a convenience store down the road while Clementine searched the supermarket, just so they could get the most out of their trip. But since they had been eyeing the infested diner for a while, Clementine had decided last minute to add it to her supply run on her way back.

It’s become a familiar routine for them, and they’ve been working this way for as long as they can remember in every city and town they’ve come across through the years. They cover more ground in less time that way, and they can’t afford to not be efficient.

The street they were on was located at the other end of the city, and it was the only area they hadn’t searched yet due to the roadblock of cars that kept the walkers locked in. It was there before they arrived, and they avoided it for as long as possible, but they were running low on food and that had left them no choice but to head there. Without their supply run, they would have had no supper for the night, and both had agreed they didn’t want to wait until sunrise.

They scan through the contents of both their bags, looking down at their collection on the floor.

“Well, I say this’ll last us… two weeks at most. And I reckon that was our last run in this place,” Luke observes.

Clementine doesn’t respond and only stares forward into nothingness, but she reflects on his statement. He’s right, they’re going to have to move out of here soon. Move on to another town. There’s not much left for them here.

He gestures to the bottle in her hands and she hands it over to him. He tilts his head back, taking a large swig.

Clem hugs her knees to her chest and extends her forearms across them, plopping her head back against the wall. The only sound to be heard is her absentmindedly picking at the dirt under her fingernails.

After another drink, Luke grabs a can of sweet corn from their pile scattered in front of them and uses his pocket knife to cut away the lid. “You should eat something,” he advises as he delicately hands it to her.

“Thanks,” she accepts it, her agonizingly blank mind distracting her from how hungry she is.

* * *

In the morning, Clementine wakes before Luke does.

It’s early, and the sun is shining bright through the windows, casting orange rays of light that allow the gray dust particles in the air to be visible.

When they scavenged an old mattress a while back, Luke had insisted Clementine be the one to use it since it would be too small for the both of them. He had then pieced together his own makeshift cot on the floor next to her with only a couple wool blankets and a thick rolled up sweater.

After retrieving the knife that she keeps under her pillow, Clementine gingerly steps around his sleeping form as she approaches the counter where all their supplies lay, her back now turned to the beds.

She quickly changes her shirt and ties her red flannel around her waist before pulling her boots on. She then tucks the knife into her thigh holster and clips her walkie-talkie onto her belt.

Luke wakes to the rattling sound of Clementine loading her pistol, and she peeks over her shoulder at him when she hears him groan from the intensity of the bright morning light. It’s not something that bothers her, though. She’s always been a morning person.

He stretches his arms and begins to sit up, eyelids drooping.

“I’m heading out,” she says without looking at him, tucking her pistol into the back of her jeans.

Luke sighs audibly, trailing his fingers through his hair. He sits with his knees up and his arms resting on top of them, hands hanging limply. “How long will you be gone this time?” he asks, accepting the situation. He doesn’t bother to mention that she tried to leave while he was asleep.

He knows how independent she is, and Clementine regularly leaves on her own. He doesn’t ask where. She says the walks help her take her mind off things. Sometimes she comes back with supplies and blood all over her clothes, sometimes she doesn’t. Other times she returns and doesn’t say a word. Then again, that much is expected from her. She’s self-reliant, but she’s tough and Luke trusts her to make her own decisions.

“I don’t know. A couple hours, maybe,” she responds as she lugs her empty rucksack onto her shoulder, hoping to fill it with at least some supplies.

Luke purses his lips, contemplating what he should allow himself to say. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, I’ll be fine,” she rejects in a low voice.

He shakes his head. “Clem, you know we had a close call last night,” he points out in a quiet voice, trying to keep his tone level after their heated conversation the night before. “Maybe you shouldn’t go this time.”

She finally turns to face him and a soft, consoling smile lingers on her lips. “Hey. don’t worry about me. I’ll call you on the walkie if anything goes wrong.” she comforts, wishing he didn’t have to look so concerned.

Luke remains silent and she’s aware he wants to convince her further, but they both know there would be no point in that. They’ve had such conversations before. He’d keep trying no matter how much she refuses to listen. They’re both stubborn like that.

She approaches and bends down to grab her baseball cap from the floor next to her mattress, now at eye level with Luke. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” Her hand briefly rubs his shoulder in reassurance and she grins at him, her eyes sparkling. She wishes he didn’t worry so much about her.

Luke only mumbles a pained “alright” in response, forcing a smile in return.

With her backpack lazily hanging off one shoulder, he watches as she puts on her baseball cap on her way out, and the door swings closed behind her.

* * *

Clementine doesn’t know why she finds solace standing in the middle of an abandoned street. Maybe it’s the peacefulness that it brings, and how eerily quiet it can be. She knows she shouldn’t feel that way, considering this was once someone’s home and it’s become nothing but a ghost town now, but she finds comfort in the solitude. She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

There isn’t a single walker in sight, and Clementine already knows that none of them are on this side of this city. Her and Luke had cleared them out already. The roadblock at the opposite end prevents the others from travelling very far. They mostly just shuffle on the spot or stumble aimlessly up and down the road. They’re far from where she is, so she doesn’t worry.

The only sound is the whistle of the wind as gravel and orange sand drift through the air like smoke clouds. Sunrise was only a couple of hours ago so the summer heat hasn’t reached it’s peak yet, which Clementine is thankful for, but the sun still blinds her eyes as she squints up at the clear blue sky.

A couple of birds fly overhead, and she notices a line of clothing hanging above in between two buildings, blowing pathetically in the wind. The town is filled with numerous destroyed cars lining the roads and stray pieces of paper flying across her path from the breeze. The wooden fences within the alleys are rotting and falling apart with the occasional dead walker littering the ground. She walks on in silence with her pistol in hand.

She left the coffee shop about an hour ago and has been searching every corner in every building as she passes by them. Her and Luke had briefly searched this area before, and when they rummaged through it all, they had left quite a bit behind that they didn’t think was useful or didn’t have room to carry. Like things someone would want instead of need. But she has an empty backpack now, and Clementine eventually finds herself revisiting the comic book store at the end of the block.

The building has large ceiling to floor windows on the wall that faces the street, but the glass had been completely shattered, that side of the store becoming wide open to the outside air. The place is missing an entire wall and all that remains there is the window frames and front door. It’s wide in length and connects to other shops on both sides that lengthen all the way down the street.

There isn’t much left on the shelves and some of the books are scattered around the floor, but there’s enough for her to spend a good half an hour losing herself in them.

She didn’t read comics much as a kid. Since she never learned anything past first grade, she can’t read very well, but she admires the art. It reminds her of when she used to draw cartoon characters as a little girl living in suburban Georgia. It makes her wish she could have had the chance to improve her drawing skills.

She hums quietly as she shoves the one she was reading into her backpack and grabs another from the shelf, smirking at the purity of it all.

She quickly flips through the new one and stops to cherish the vibrant pictures on certain pages. She takes that one too, aiming to look at it again later. She figures maybe Luke would also like to read them. He did always have a nerdy side for superheroes.

She paces further down the shelf, admiring the artwork on the front covers, before her heart catches in her throat at the sound of shuffling somewhere behind her, like shoes brushing against the pavement outside. Instinctively, Clementine’s head snaps around and her form buckles in caution. Her hand hovers over the knife clipped to her thigh.

It could have been the wind, blowing debris along the sidewalk. She doesn’t hear anything again after that. But her mind reaches the worst-case scenario and she loathes herself for becoming so off guard in the first place.

Her eyes locked on the street outside, she slowly advances towards the road with her knife gripped tightly in her hand. If a walker made it over here somehow, she’ll be able to take it out in one strike. The noise of her pistol would otherwise attract the ones at the other end of the city.

Clementine approaches the wall that connects to the building next door, but as she begins to round the corner, she feels a hand clamp over her mouth from behind and she struggles to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued! Also, since it’s canon that there’s 16 years of age between Luke and Clem, Luke would be 33 in this story. I don’t ship them romantically and that’s not what this story is supposed to be. I only ship them in a sibling/partners in crime sort of way.


	2. Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major trigger warning in this chapter as well as coarse language.

_Clementine approaches the wall that connects to the building next door, but as she begins to round the corner, she feels a hand clamp over her mouth from behind and she struggles to breathe._

The knife is snatched from her possession before she can react, and she feels the other hand brushing down her waist and landing on the pistol attached to her hip. Her heart skips a beat when whoever is behind her makes sure to keep their fingertips lingering there for longer than necessary. She hears her gun clip out of its holster and clatter across the floor. Her arms are trapped tightly within the grip of her captor, so she bites down on the large hand pressing over her mouth, _hard_.

She’s released instantly, and Clementine stumbles away, catching her breath.

“Motherfucker!” the loud shriek from behind startles her. “Son of a bitch, she drew blood!”

She watches with a deadly glare as the man holds his bleeding finger up to his face, shaking his wrist as if to lessen the pain. Clementine tastes dirt and blood on her tongue, and she spits out a heap of it onto the ground.

He doesn’t look to be older than twenty-five, maybe not even that far from Clementine’s age. She doesn’t recognize him, but he appears no different than every other big man with a gun she’s come across in her lifetime. He’s much taller than her, armed with a hunting rifle, and wears a beanie over his head with a camouflage rucksack on his back.

Her backside collides into the chest of another figure towering behind her and she turns around, backing away instantly. “Get away from me,” Clementine warns.

Her hand instinctively hovers over her holster, but she forgets she’s been completely disarmed. She despises herself for leaving her hatchet behind. It would’ve been extra weight to carry and she didn’t think she would need so many weapons.

The second man doesn’t look incredibly different from the other and is probably only a couple of years older, except he has tattoos covering his bare arms and piercings lining his ears. She can see the machete on his back peeking out from behind his shoulder.

He only continues to stride towards her with poise as he chuckles darkly at her choice of action. “Oh, she’s a feisty one, isn’t she?” he observes. The other one is still sucking on his bitten hand.

Clementine struggles to maintain her confidence in front of two armed gunmen when she’s left completely defenseless, but she doesn’t let her threatening expression falter. Her mind can only wonder whether the rest of their potential group is lingering through town right now.

She glances from him to her pistol on the ground a short distance away from them, and she moves to reach for it before thinking. When he grabs her arm and her backpack slides off her shoulder in the process, she whips around and quickly strikes her fist into his nose.

He barely reacts as he releases her, only gently touching his fingers to his face before smirking at her again, like he’s disappointed yet amused at the same time. His elbow pulls back and he launches his fist back at her.

Clementine grunts from the impact. She doesn’t fall, but she stumbles and holds her hand to her surely bruised jaw. While she’s doubled over, he grabs her again and keeps his forearm across her chest as he stands behind her, threatening to choke her.

“Hey, now hold on a minute, princess,” he says as she attempts to struggle out of his firm grasp, but his strength overpowers her own. “Where’s the rest of your group?”

“Yeah, and don’t fucking lie to us!” The man with the bitten finger approaches them. He has Clementine’s pistol in hand, and he holds it up near his face. Not quite pointing it at her, but just letting her know it’s there.

She grunts as her legs violently kick out at him, but the muscular arms around her only pull her back and tighten around her torso.

“Answer me!” she flinches when he shouts directly into her ear.

“I don’t have to tell you shit,” snarls Clementine.

He snickers and lowers his voice, leaning in closer to her. “Don’t tell me a pretty girl like you is out here all by herself.”

She turns her head away, his words making her feel sick.

“There’s no one out here, man. Didn’t you see those streets?” He gestures outside. “The whole place is probably deserted.”

A sliver of hope ignites inside her at his observation, hoping they’ll leave and never come back once they know the place is empty.

The man holding her leans in by her ear again, and she scoffs in disgust. “Now,” he begins, “I’m only askin’ ‘cause we wouldn’t want any of your friends showin’ up and ruinin’ the party, would we?”

She remains unresponsive, irritation rising inside her.

No matter what she tells them, there’s no way of knowing what exactly it is they want to hear. One slip up in her words and she’ll be putting Luke in danger. They can call any one of their guys to start scouting for other survivors. And if she misleads them, they might see through her lies and think the opposite. Either way, she’s at a disadvantage.

“Man, you ain’t got nothin’ good.” The other man complains as he frantically searches through the contents of her backpack on the floor. “The fuck is this shit?” he dangles a comic book out in front of his face before carelessly throwing it behind him, the pages rustling loudly.

The gears in her brain scramble for a solution. Each of them is holding one of her weapons. He probably put her knife in his pocket when he first grabbed her, and she eyes her gun in the other guy’s hand. She figures if she runs, the man’s arm will only tighten around her neck. She’s already learned that her strength is pathetic compared to his. Then she remembers her walkie talkie, which is still clipped to her belt. She’s smart in that she won’t call for help, but if Luke could hear a voice that isn’t hers, he’d come running.

As the two men converse on either side of her, Clementine slowly frees her arm and reaches to click the talk button on her hip, when he notices her hand and quickly latches onto her wrist. He then snatches the other, her arms now forced behind her back.

“Hey! You don’t move unless I tell you to,” he growls, and she can feel fingernails piercing her skin. “Hey, keep an eye out, will you?” he calls over his shoulder while he shoves her in the opposite direction. “I got first dibs on this one.”

The other man sighs audibly, annoyance in his voice. “Fine, but make it quick. I ain’t gettin’ my ass jumped while you’re busy gettin’ your dick wet.”

Confused and terrified, Clementine’s heart races faster and she continues to squirm as he walks her over to the back of the shop. Her hands still fastened behind her back, he forcefully grabs the back of her neck and pushes her upper body down onto the counter. She grunts when her head collides roughly with the hard surface.

He leans forward as he stands behind her, holding her down. “You still wanna keep quiet, princess?” He mutters just above a whisper so she’s the only one that can hear. “Or am I gonna have to shut you up?” He speaks so close to her ear she can smell his breath.

Clementine stops struggling for a moment and attempts to glare up at him, but fails to catch sight of his form with the side of her face pressed against the counter. “ _Fuck you_ ,” she bites through panting breaths, her voice dangerous.

She hears the rustling sound of his belt buckle being unfastened behind her, but she’s still winded from her head hitting the counter. Her heart is pounding so hard through her ears and she starts sweating. Tears pool in her eyes and she begins to hyperventilate, air unable to reach her lungs.

When he proceeds, she instantly screams through clenched teeth. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she lets out a loud sob as she rests her chin on the surface of the counter. He tells her to keep quiet and she continues to cry. Her hands come up to lay flat on the table, desperate to push herself up even though she’s paralyzed from the pain.

For a while she can’t hear anything, her rapid pulse blocking out any sound around her. Then the man’s yell echoes through her head and she hears something heavy hit the ground. “What the fuck?!” he shrieks, before the crushing weight of him finally releases off her and she collapses to the ground, sobbing.

Next thing she knows, she’s on all fours with her face inches from the floor and she can finally breathe again. The commotion continues around her and she can hear repeated grunting somewhere in the near distance. Clementine turns her head to see the other man from before laying on the ground by the window, an arrow stuck straight in between his eyes. A pool of blood surrounds his head, growing larger by the second.

Everything is a haze around her and her shaking arms struggle to support her upright. Finally, she lifts her chin to meet the source of the shouting, and she watches as Luke towers over the man while gripping the collar of his shirt, his fist pummeling into his face repeatedly.

“ _Don’t fuckin’ touch her, you sick son of a bitch!”_ he screams at the top of his lungs with rage boiling inside him, blood spraying from the guy’s mouth with every blow.

Clementine tries to crawl towards him but the pain numbs her body so much, she feels like she can’t move a muscle. “Luke…” she chokes out, her voice weak. Her eyes are only half open and she can barely see through her blurry vision. “Just stop… please,” she pleads in a croaking voice and she’s not even sure if he can hear her. She attempts to rise on her knees but she winces painfully and tumbles back down.

He doesn’t stop. He only continues to punch him with applied force every time, spitting out vile words about how he needs to pay for what he’s done and that he doesn’t deserve to die so painlessly.

There’s no energy in her to speak again, so she waits for what feels like a lifetime until the room eventually goes quiet and all that can be heard is Luke’s heavy breathing. The man was dead a long time ago. He glares down at the bloodied mess in front of him with fire in his eyes, blood dripping from his own bruised knuckles. No one would be able to tell the guy had a face once. He spits on the battered corpse, then the sound of faint crying begins to reach his ears.

_Clementine._

Luke scrambles across the room in a panic and Clementine barely manages to drag herself across the floor, coughing achingly in the process. The sight of her breaks his heart into a million pieces.

“Hey. Hey… I got you,” he shushes, rushing towards her in an instant. He wishes she would stop trying so hard to stand. “It’s okay. Hey… stop. It’s okay.”

Clementine sobs loudly and he wraps his arms around her from behind, gently pulling her to sit back on her knees. He rests his chin on top of her head and holds her securely until she crumbles into him, desperately gripping onto his arms. He mumbles reassuring words to her over and over again, informing her that she’s safe and that they’re gone now. He tells her how sorry he is and she’s crying so hard that the sound doesn’t even escape her lips.

They stay there, rocking on the floor with Luke hugging her tightly from behind, and it takes everything for his broken heart to stay strong for her own.

* * *

Luke paces across the room with unease, running a hand through his hair continuously. They reached the coffee shop a while ago. A couple of hours at least, maybe, and he hasn’t been able to keep still since.

Luke had helped her walk home. It took them a while but he carried all her stuff for her as well as his own and encouraged her with every step, his arms hovering around her shoulders the entire time. She limped the whole way.

He told her to drink something and to eat, but she refused. He apologized frequently and asked if there was something, _anything_ he could do for her. Guilt rips away at him, and he’s never felt so helpless in his life.

“Fuck!” he shouts, “I- I should have gotten there sooner, Clem. I- I tried… I got there as fast as I could,” he tells her repeatedly, over and over again and it echoes throughout the room. He was too late. He was _too fucking late_.

Finally, he stops, and he turns to face her. She’s sitting on the mattress on the floor with her back leaning against the wall. She doesn’t look at him though, and only continues to stare at the wall on the opposite side. She doesn’t look sad, or angry, or panicked. She just sits there in silence with her knees held tightly to her chest, her face completely expressionless.

She hasn’t said a word since he found her.

He eyes the purple bruise on her jaw again, and exhales in frustration. He doesn’t know exactly how it got there, but he assumes. He assumes a lot of things, and the countless thoughts of what exactly happened eats away at him like a termite. He noticed the red marks around her wrists, too. His mind is completely restless, but he would never, _ever_ ask her to explain what happened. Not if that means she has to relive it.

He was just there, picking through their supplies and counting how much ammunition they had left, when the walkie talkie on the counter buzzed to life momentarily then died again. He had purposely placed it there after she left. It was only for a split second, but he thought he had heard someone. Then he thought that maybe she accidentally pressed the button or the device was broken, but the more that sound echoed in his head, the more he was convinced that it was a voice, and one that didn’t even sound close to Clementine’s.

When realization hit him, he had leapt to his feet in an instant and snatched his crossbow on his way out the door. He grabbed the walkie talkie as well, in case she tried to reach him again. He wouldn’t dare speak in to it though, not if she was with someone. They couldn’t know he was coming for her.

He didn’t have a clue where she’d gone. The city is a maze and every street looks almost identical. She couldn’t have told him when she left if she didn’t even know for herself. Then he had heard her screaming, repeatedly. It was muffled and from a distance but he knew it was her. He’d never ran so fast in his entire life.

And when he finally found them, one of the men was stood outside a building by the street, holding a hunting rifle in his hands. Luke couldn’t see Clementine but he knew she was in there, and she wasn’t alone. All it took was one arrow through the guy’s skull and he had raced in with fury swelling up inside him.

Shaking his thoughts away from the memory, Luke looks away from her with his hands on his hips and chews aggressively on his bottom lip. Then he sighs audibly, his shoulders slouching. “Clem… I understand if you want to be alone right now,” he tells her gently, even though he can’t stand to see her like this.

She doesn’t respond and just continues to stare at the wall. He’s not even sure if she’s listening to him.

“But I just want you to know that I’m here for you, you got that? If- if you ever need anythin’, just… let me know and I’ll- I’ll…”

His sentence dissolves on his tongue when he looks to her again, except this time her expression is pained and contorted instead of blank, and he knows that the tears are about to come.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Luke rushes to her side, and hearing his delicate words only make her want to cry more.

He sits down next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, shushing her as she weeps for the second time that day. Clementine lets her head loll onto his shoulder, and Luke firmly kisses the top of her head as he rubs her forearm, pulling her into him.

He doesn’t speak any more words, and neither does she. He just sits there with her, staring over her head with a sorrowful expression on his face as she lets out all the pain, killing him slowly on the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have any plans to continue this story right now, but I also don’t want to let it go just yet so if anyone has any ideas about what I could do with it, please let me know and I will consider!


	3. Recovering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned in this chapter is called ‘Blood’ and it’s a cover by Kerry Courtney, so if you want, please listen to it while reading to get you in the right feels! I used it for inspiration while writing the first half. Also, yes, I have decided to continue this story because it’s just too fun to write!

Clementine would always tell Luke that sleeping late is a waste of a day and that such time should be spent doing more important things, but she had slept in the next morning, and for once, Luke was the first to rise. He thought about waking her just so she could live up to her rule of remaining productive, but after laying eyes on her peaceful figure in the corner, he had decided to leave her be. It’d been considered that she needs the rest more than he does.

Luke, on the other hand, had barely slept at all. The man spent most of the night tossing and turning in bed. He’d stand, then walk back and forth across the room to try and make himself more tired. Then he’d fall asleep for a little while and repeat the whole thing all over again.

Despite how exhausted he was, a part of him feared that if he went to sleep, he would wake up and Clementine wouldn’t be there for some reason. Or she’d be crying softly to herself and he wouldn’t even know because he wasn’t awake for it. But every time he’d worriedly glance over to her in the middle of the night, she’d be there in the exact same spot, completely still, just sleeping like a baby.

It’s evening now, and the sun had gone down not too long ago. Clementine had gotten out of bed briefly, a few hours after waking up, and it had confused him when she only ended up burrowing herself back in the blanket a while later with her back completely turned to him. Luke had spoken to her a few times, just to let her know that he’s there, but after a while he figured he may as well have been talking to nothing.

He wants to go outside, maybe make one last scavenging trip or at least go for a walk and get fresh air, but Clementine is clearly in no state to go anywhere and he sure as hell isn’t going to leave her alone for a second. So as Luke continues to silently take stock of all their supplies in the coffee shop, with a few lanterns providing the only dim light in the dark room, he can’t help glancing back at her every few minutes.

She’s been in that position for a while now, curled up in a ball facing the wall with the blanket held tightly almost up to her ears. The poor girl spent the whole day staring at walls instead of him, or aimlessly turning over her baseball cap in her hands while trying to brush away the dirt on it.

Luke suddenly feels a strong need to remind her that he’s there, again. “Clem?” He asks gently, staring at her backside. Even though he can’t see her face, he knows she’s not sleeping. He can tell because she’d occasionally sniffle or sigh, or rub her eyes. “Do you want somethin’ to eat?”

She doesn’t respond and silence fills the room instead. That much was expected from him, but he still had to ask. He watches when she only adjusts her head on the pillow, subtly indicating that she heard him, and his assumption of her being awake proves to be true.

Luke exhales quietly. She hasn’t eaten since yesterday. Even considering what she must be feeling right now, he’s still worried about her. It’s not healthy to go so long without food, especially when it’s intentional. They’ve spent countless days in the past without it, but they have plenty now and she doesn’t need to starve anymore than she already does. He can only wonder whether she’ll continue to avoid eating, and if that will last for days or even weeks. He hopes that isn’t the case.

Luke wanders to the other end of the shop with his hands planted on his hips, the lanterns casting dark shadows of himself on the walls.

He doesn’t expect her to talk to him, and he’s given her plenty of space, but it’s only getting more agonizing for him to see her like this. She was a closed off person before, that’s just what her personality has always been, but he didn’t think she could be even _more_ quiet. She had stopped crying, at least. That’s what he tells himself when he thinks about how it’s been over a day without the sound of her voice.

Gazing up at the ceiling, then at the floor and back at her, an idea suddenly comes to mind. He reaches over the counter, grabbing the guitar they had found in a music store down the street when they had first started scavenging the city.

Clementine had told him he might have been crazy to take it. “ _I can’t believe you._ _The world has turned to shit and you still somehow manage to care about the most unimportant things_ ,” she had said to him in disbelief as he took the time to choose the perfect one, dozens of instruments hanging on the walls from the ceiling to the floor.

“ _Hey, you know what they say. When life gives you lemons_ ,” he had told her enthusiastically, and she scoffed at his optimism, chuckling from how ridiculous he could be sometimes.

That was only a few weeks ago, and yet it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. It was all so simple, that moment. It was something rare, and pure in itself. And now, everything about it just feels so far away.

Luke plops himself on the floor next to Clementine’s mattress with the guitar across his lap and sighs loudly before clicking his tongue, purposely exaggerating the noise. She doesn’t turn to face him, but she shifts in place, seeming to curl further away from him. He pretends not to notice. Casually, he begins to tune the instrument.

After clearing his throat, Luke begins to lazily strum his thumb down the strings, a soothing chord echoing between the both of them. He figures he can’t make her talk, or eat, or even get out of bed, but he can at least try and speed up the process.

When the gentle sound reaches her ears, Clementine shuts her eyes painfully as the nostalgia floods back to her. She recognizes the song instantly. A lump begins to form in her throat and for a moment, she feels like a little girl again; young and afraid, and asking to be lulled to sleep again.

_“Luke?” Clementine whispers softly as she shakes his arm. “Luke, wake up.”_

_She’s twelve years old. A year has passed since the numbers in their group had dwindled down to just the two of them. They’re all that’s left, and Luke had vowed to protect her for the rest of his life._

_Still half asleep, his eyelids flutter and she shakes him even more aggressively. He sloppily tries to bat her hands away in irritation, mumbling words back to her. “What- what is it, Clem?”_

_She sits back on her knees and exhales, staring disappointedly at the ground. “I can’t sleep.”_

_He’s unable to see her very well in the darkness of the room, but he notices her picking at the fingernails in her lap; something she seems to do when she’s troubled. “Was it the nightmares again?” he asks, and she nods, ashamed._

_Clementine hadn’t told him much about what happened before they met. But as they became closer over the past year, she had spent many nights reciting to him what she sees in her dreams, and the haunted looks on her face would only convince him further when she tells him it was all real; horrible things about cannibals and people from her past whose deaths she had blamed herself for. Sometimes, he can’t believe everything the girl has been through at her age._

_“I’m sorry to wake you, I- I just… I wanted to hear you play,” she says quietly._

_Luke tiredly rubs his forearm across his eyes, still laying on his back. “Now?” It’s the middle of the night and he can’t help but feel confused from such an odd request._

_“You said you knew how, and that you would let me hear one day,” Clementine continues._

_They had taken a break from the road and agreed to spend the night in an abandoned house in one of the neighbourhoods they were passing through. While making sure the place was safe, Clementine had found the guitar downstairs, and Luke mentioned that music was a big part of his family while growing up._

_A moment of silence lingers between them and as tired as he is, he could never say no to that familiar pleading look on her face. “Alright,” he sighs, defeated. He sits up to switch the lantern on and Clementine brightens in excitement, the little girl clearly wide awake._

_They each get comfortable and as Luke tunes the strings, she watches with wonder in her wide eyes._

_“You know, when I was a kid livin’ on the farm, my parents and I, and my cousins and everyone… we would, uh… we’d sit around the fire sometimes and everyone who knew how to play would bring their guitars,” Luke recalls, smiling at the warm memories. “We’d sit there for hours sometimes, just… singin’ every folk song we knew.”_

_“Really?” Clementine asks, grinning at the thought of something so innocent. “That sounds like fun.”_

_“Yeah, it was,” he agrees. “Finally, a few years later I asked my dad if he could teach me so I could play, too. Eventually I learned, and sometimes we’d be so drunk off our asses you couldn’t even tell what we were singin’,” Luke chuckles as he begins to pluck the strings, and Clementine feels her heart soar._

He sang to her that night, as well as many times after that. She would always ask him to, sometimes even when she wasn’t having nightmares, because she fell in love with the music. When she looks back to the time before the world fell apart, she didn’t feel she appreciated it as much, not until now. Not until she realized that something so small can hold so much beauty, especially when there’s so very little of it left in the world.

But as Clementine got older, and the world became colder, the two of them didn’t have room in their hearts for such things anymore. Her nightmares eventually faded away, and their spirit for the music began to disappear between them. And Clementine thought it was foolish to believe that such delicacies still existed.

It’s been years since she’s heard that song, and probably just as long since he played it. But he remembers every word, and after hearing it so many times, she remembers them too. They all rush back to her as she listens to him quietly sing the words.

_Older brother, restless soul, lie down  
Lie for a while with your ear against the earth_

The room is dim and so very quiet, and at this moment, the world is asleep. He pauses between every phrase to allow the silence to hang between them, as if he’s testing for a reaction.

Slowly, Clementine eventually shifts and rolls over to face him, pulling the blanket up to her nose. She looks up at him, her eyes sparkling as the glow of the lanterns flicker orange light on her face.

_And you'll hear your sister sleep talking_  
_Say your hair is long but not long enough to reach_  
 _Home to me_  
 _But your beard_  
 _Someday might be_

He smirks when he sings, and he feels his heart flutter when she faintly grins back at him, her eyes squinting from it. They never understood that last part, but it always made them laugh anyway.

Warmth envelopes Luke as she watches him, just listening to him play, her blinking eyes peeking out at him from under the covers. Luke notices this may be the first time she’s looked at him since yesterday, or even acknowledged his existence. Laying curled in a ball, safe and warm, he realizes how much she resembles that same scared twelve-year-old girl from so long ago, begging him to sing to her one last time.

_And she'll wake up in a cold sweat on the floor_  
Next to a family portrait drawn when you were four  
_And beside a jar of two cent coins that are no good no more_  
 _She'll lay it aside_

When the last chord of the song rings out through their ears, they lock eyes for a moment, and he looks down at her with a soft smile. Quietness fills the room again, except this time, it’s a comfortable silence.

Clementine’s hand slowly pokes out from the protection of the blanket, and reaches for his own in his lap. Her eyes speak a thousand words, and he knows that she is silently thanking him. He lets her when she wraps her fingers tightly around his, clinging onto that sliver of hope within him and finally allowing his mind to rest for the first time that day.

* * *

The next morning, Clementine had spoken again. They’d just woken up and Luke barely finished eating when he heard her mutter behind him, “am I…” she hesitates, her voice just above a whisper. “Am I going to get pregnant?”

“What?” Luke barely even registers what she’s saying and is instead fazed by the fact that she actually spoke. Then her question echoes in his mind and he exclaims in a panic, “wh- no! No… y-you’re not.”

She only stares back at him, as if she thinks he’s lying.

“Clem… it- it doesn’t work like that,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t expecting her to ask such a thing, especially not as the first words that come out of her mouth in almost two days.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks innocently, and Luke wishes they didn’t have to have this conversation. She thinks about Christa, and the tragedy of how her baby never survived a day. She remembers Rebecca too, and how much pain the woman had been in that cold winter evening. Clementine didn’t understand why anyone would want to go through something so awful.

“Well… yeah, but I mean- only in a certain way,” Luke had struggled to explain. “Look, you’re fine, okay? You don’t… you don’t need to worry about that.” He suddenly can’t stand to think how something so terrible was on her mind this whole time and he didn’t even know.

Clementine still doesn’t understand, but after seeing how stressed he just became, she chooses not to ask any further questions.

* * *

Later that day, Luke asks her if she’s ready to move out of town. As much as he hates pushing her to do anything so soon, he knows they both don’t want to stay in a place with such horrible memories any longer. Not only that, but after strangers managed to enter town without them knowing, there’s no telling if more of them are on their way. It’s best not to take any chances. Their remaining food should hopefully last them until they find another place to stay for a while. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for him to convince her.

So, they begin to pack up their supplies and decide on what they should leave behind for easier travels. When Clementine eyes the guitar leaning against the wall, Luke places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We can always find another one,” he consoles her.

By the disappointed look on her face, he can tell that she wants him to keep it, for nights like the one before. She was never one to get attached to such useless objects, but last night reminded her how special that instrument had become to her. To both of them.

As Luke attempts to make room for everything to fit in his backpack, Clementine’s question from earlier still nags at the back of his mind. It breaks his heart that it’s come to that; that because of what happened, these are the kinds of worries she’s going to have on her mind now, and there’s nothing he can do about it. A girl her age shouldn’t have to think about such things. It’s just not right.

“Luke?” He hears her small voice somewhere behind him, and when he turns to see the concerned look on her face, he suddenly realizes how aggressively he had been packing.

He exhales, figuring there would be no point in telling her he’s fine. It would be a lie. “You ready to go?” he asks.

Clementine stares back at him warily, then subtly nods her head in agreement.

* * *

They walk down the streets in silence. It’s midday and Luke feels they should have left sooner if they wanted to get far enough away and make shelter before nightfall. He notices that Clementine is falling behind, and he once again loathes himself for making her leave. Luke just hopes she understands they can’t stay here any longer. She hasn’t objected or shown any signs that she doesn’t want to go, but the distance she keeps is worrisome.

“Hey,” he stops walking to let her catch up to him, reaching his hand out to stroke her arm. “You doin’ alright?”

“Yeah,” she responds, and they continue moving forward. Luke’s hand lingers on her back encouragingly until she’s a few steps in front of him, hoping to keep her in his sight.

He purposely led them a certain route out of town, avoiding the comic book store a few roads down. Even though they’re not anywhere near that place, the streets they’re on still possess an ominous feeling that wasn’t there before. Clementine senses it too, and it only makes them want to leave faster.

Keeping to the sidewalk as an extra precaution, they reach a shaded area underneath an awning when Luke starts to hear low rumbling in the distance. He slows his pace, unsure whether he’s only imagining things. When the sound becomes louder, realization hits him and he hurriedly pushes her into the building beside them. “Get down,” he hisses in a stern whisper.

As they crouch inside, she notices the jolting sound of an engine approaching from somewhere behind them. They kneel under the windows facing the street, and Luke watches in anticipation as the slow vehicle passes them on the road.

It rolls to a stop only about a block down from them. It’s a black van with large double doors on the back of it, and a figure begins to exit from the driver’s side. Luke squints to get a better look. The man is holding an assault rifle in his gloved hands, and wears a bullet proof vest as well as an ammunition belt around his waist.

All that can be heard is his footsteps heavily shuffling on the dirt as he walks a few paces outwards, quickly scanning his surroundings. He raises a signalling hand towards the large vehicle. “Hey, we’re all clear! Come on out,” he calls.

Clementine lifts her chin to peer over the windowsill, keeping her head low.

They listen as one of the doors open then slam shut, another figure exiting from the other side. After a moment, the vehicle’s back doors are pried open and more figures emerge. Soon there are half a dozen men surrounding the van, maybe more, all with machine guns in their arms.

Luke’s eyes widen at the sight, and he hears when Clementine’s breath catches in her throat next to him.

“You’re sure this is the place?” one of the men asks.

Another one approaches them, irritation in his tone. “We’re in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere. There ain’t no other place it could be.”

The driver slowly observes the countless buildings lining the street, squinting from the afternoon sun. “They were here,” he adds confidently, his voice authoritative. “Said it was a big town just north, couldn’t miss it.”

Their voices are muffled and distant, and Luke and Clementine focus to decipher the words between the three people.

“I’m just sayin’, it ain’t look like anyone’s been here,” the other continues.

“Man, we ain’t even looked yet and you’re already bein’ a fuckin’ pussy about it.”

He glares back at him in response.

The driver seems to ignore their banter, still eyeing their surroundings curiously. After a moment, his hand waves in the air once again. “Alright, everybody, fan out! Rhodes, get a view from up top,” he snaps his fingers at a man standing nearby who immediately rushes in the opposite direction, a sniper rifle in hand. “We ain’t leavin’ until we search every last inch of this place!”

The group separates in every direction with their weapons cautiously raised, sending affirmative nods and a chorus of ‘yes sir’ towards him.

“Shit,” Luke whispers frustratingly as he watches them spread out.

“They’re… they’re looking for someone,” Clementine pants under her breath. When she turns to him with unease, he realizes they both have the same theory on their minds.

He purses his lips in thought, then peers out the window again. “Yeah, well let’s not wait around. I get the feelin’ these guys won’t be too happy to find _us_ instead of their friends,” he declares.

When he rests his gaze back on her, he notices her chest rapidly rising and falling and there’s worry within her eyes.

“Hey… it’s gonna be fine,” he consoles, and she nods in assurance, swallowing the fear. Luke gestures towards the door at the back of the building, “come on.”

They exit into a long alleyway that lengthens behind the row of shops, their weapons drawn in case they run into any unwanted trouble. Luke follows close behind her, and Clementine notices the black truck parked on the other side as she peers through the openings between each building.

“Hold up,” Luke murmurs as he peers around the corner with his back against the wall, crossbow in hand. One of the men is walking directly towards them in between two of the buildings, the gravel crunching loudly underneath his boots.

“You find anything?” Another set of footsteps suddenly approach, the deep voice coming from a distance.

“Nothin’,” he replies unenthusiastically.

“I’m telling you, man, it’s been two fucking days,” he continues in a hushed tone. “They probably aren’t even alive, if you ask me.”

Luke and Clementine can’t risk going back to the main street or they’re sure to get spotted, and the two conversing men are directly in the path of where they need to go. Causing a scene is the last move they want to make right now when there’s a whole group of gunmen on the hunt, surrounding the area. They lock eyes with each other, silently communicating, and Clementine tightens her grip on her hatchet.

Both of the men’s backs are turned and they’re only slightly angled towards each other, looking out at the street as they speak. Luckily, they’re stood directly underneath the shadows.

“You got the left one?” Luke whispers to her.

Eyeing her target, she takes a steady breath. “Yeah.”

A moment passes by in silence. “Shit,” the man curses under his breath. “You think the dead got to ‘em?”

“Well I sure as hell don’t see any biters out here.”

“You think someone killed ‘em?”

The other sighs heavily in response. “Let’s just hope for our sakes, that ain’t the case. Boss won’t be too happy to hear about--“ his sentence is cut short as an axe plunges into the back of his skull, and the second man barely reacts before an arrow lodges itself into his head, both of them collapsing to the ground in an instant.

“Nice work,” Luke compliments as they swiftly step over the bodies, retrieving his arrow.

They make it a few blocks further and had crouched their way through a couple of buildings that connect on either side in an attempt to avoid the main road, as well as the sniper perched on the roof across the street.

“I got this one,” Luke announces when they enter what looks to have been a hotel lobby once. One of the gunmen is wandering through the main floor with his back turned to them, his rifle raised. Luke steadies him aim and fires an arrow, downing him in one shot.

They advance forward through the buildings, and as Luke and Clementine near the end, a booming voice announces from somewhere down the hall. “ _Hey, we got dead over here_!”

They freeze in a panic, looking over at each other from across the room with wide eyes.

“ _Biters_?” they hear someone call back.

“ _No_ ,” he responds, “ _he’s one of our own_!”

It can only be the one Luke took out in the lobby, which is only a couple doorways down from where they are now. He silently gestures to the exit a short distance in front of Clementine, his crossbow raised warily.

“ _Someone’s here_!” the man continues to shout _. “Smoke the area, don’t let anyone leave the building_!”

She bolts for the door and he runs after her, but something clatters on the floor between them and a hissing sound suddenly rings through their ears. Luke shields his eyes with his forearm as gas fills the room, nearly choking him.

“Clementine…” he croaks. Squinting, he can barely see her figure a short distance away through the thick smoke clouds. She’s coughing repeatedly, covering her mouth. Beginning to sway, he watches through blurry vision as Clementine collapses to the floor, before he too slowly descends into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said with the last update, if anyone has any thoughts or just little scenes they think I should add, let me know and I’ll consider! Reviews keep this story going!


	4. Numb

_6 years ago_

_Luke slices his machete into the final walker’s head, aggressively jerking the weapon out of it’s skull. It heavily collapses at his feet, and his eyes scan the interior of the building after the store goes quiet._

_“Alright, that’s all of ‘em,” he breathes, and Clementine follows him further inwards, tucking her bloody hammer into the back of her jeans._

_They had spotted a shop on the side of the highway during their trek, and both agreed it wouldn’t hurt to search through it for anything they might need while passing through. They’d drawn out the walkers in the building simply by rattling a glass jar filled with small pebbles, which has become a familiar method for them. It’s a fairly small building, and they figure it shouldn’t take too long to clear out._

_“I’ll take the front of the store, you take the back,” Luke proposes. “Maybe we can find some new clothes for you, too,” he gestures to Clementine’s blood-soaked sweater with a smirk. An unfortunate run in with walkers on their way here had left her as a dirty mess, and after travelling for so long, the smell was really starting to become unbearable._

_Clementine strolls through numerous aisles, eyeing the countless racks of clothing. There are a few garments that catch her eye, but they all appear to be too big for her. Clementine sighs, figuring she shouldn’t have expected to find a kid’s section in the first place. It was always so difficult to find clothes that fit her small frame._

_Still, she picks out a forest green long sleeve shirt with a few buttons lengthening down the middle, hoping it will fit her. She removes her blood-stained sweater and pulls the garment over her t-shirt. Clementine approaches the full-length mirror on the wall. It’s shattered in the middle but she can still examine herself despite the sprouting cracks on the surface._

_The sleeves hide her hands, so she rolls them up until they reach her wrists. The shirt lengthens almost to her knees and she groans, tucking the hem into her jeans. It looks better, but it’s still too loose for her. Clementine sighs heavily again. She looks like a boy. Still, she decides to stick with it, presuming she won’t be able to find anything better._

_After leaning in close to the mirror, she pushes away the curls that hang in front of her eyes from underneath her hat. There’s blood splattered on the side of her face and she attempts to wipe it away, but most of it only ends up smearing and leaving an even bigger red mark than before. Pursing her lips in thought, she figures it doesn’t really matter what she looks like._

_Stepping back to the clothing racks, she picks out a checkered red flannel as a final touch and pulls it overtop. She likes the color, and it does well in covering up how terrible her shirt fits underneath. Deciding she looks much better now, Clementine rolls the sleeves of the flannel up to her elbows and keeps the buttons undone._

_“What do you think?” she asks Luke from the other side of the store._

_He turns to her from his spot at one of the shelves, and when she poses with her arms extended outwards, he realizes how loose it appears on her. “It’s great, Clem,” he beams, then comments jokingly with a teasing grin, “Yeah, I really like the whole ‘cool kid with baggy clothes and a baseball cap’ kind of look.”_

_She narrows her eyes at him, unamused. “I like it,” she says with a smirk, turning away from him._

_Luke chuckles while searching through the drawers at the cashier counter. “Alright, it’s up to you. I’m just sayin’.”_

_Clementine moves around the back of the store, walking through the shoe section now. It’s silent between them as they both continue searching. Suddenly, she beams in excitement and pops up to peer above the aisles. “Hey, Luke,” she holds up a pair of vintage cowboy boots by her face, presenting them with a sweeping hand motion._

_Now standing a few aisles down from her, he scoffs in disbelief. “What, you want to me to wear those?” he asks sarcastically._

_“Why not?” she chirps, flipping them over in her hands a few times. “They’d look great on you.”_

_“Yeah, well, I know what you’re thinkin’,” he strolls around the outside of the shelves, walking towards her. “Believe it or not, I ain’t ever owned a pair of those in my life.”_

_“Well, now’s your chance. Come on, try them.” Clementine encourages._

_Luke rolls his eyes as he takes them from her in defeat, but she doesn’t miss the smile that lingers on his lips._

_“Oh, wait!” the girl suddenly exclaims as she races over to one of the racks by the wall._

_Luke shakes his head as he pulls the boots on, chuckling softly at her energy._

_She quickly returns with differently styled cowboy hats in each hand. Plopping one on his head, she observes it thoughtfully before switching to the other one. She stands back to eye the final product. “You know, I really like the whole ‘rodeo cowboy’ kind of look. It fits you well,” she teases with a smug grin, referring to his comment of her before._

_“Oh, yeah? You sure you ain’t just jealous of my awesome hat?” Luke runs two fingers across the rim of it, then quickly snatches Clementine’s baseball cap off her head._

_“Hey!” she laughs, reaching for it. He holds it above him as she desperately tries to jump for it, even though she’s only half his height. Luke removes his cowboy hat then heavily plops it onto her head instead, the front of it completely covering her eyes._

_Huffing, Clementine lifts it up with both hands, peeking underneath. The stray curls from her pigtails fall in front of her face again._

_Luke tilts his head as he observes her new look, pretending to be deep in thought. “Yeah, I think the sporty look suits you better,” he returns her baseball cap to her head. They exchange smiles, and after a warm moment, Luke playfully tugs on the rim of her hat. “Come on, let’s keep lookin’.”_

_They separate to opposite ends of the store again. After a while, Clementine browses her way to a separate room of the shop that’s filled with objects she’s never seen before. Rising on her toes, she peeks over a tall shelf and curiously observes a box-like machine with rows of buttons that each have a different letter on them. When she presses one, it makes a click sound and the paper sticking through the top momentarily jerks outwards._

_She purses her lips in confusion, then continues along the tables. She lightly brushes her fingertips across the surface of a record player, recalling that her dad used to have one in their basement. They never used it though, and she didn’t understand why he’d keep it around. She turns over a few different trinkets in her hands too, admiring them. Then she remembers Luke telling her that such things are only a waste of space in her backpack, and she puts them back with a frown._

_When Clementine exits to the main shop again, Luke is standing on the outside of the cashier counter by the doors with his back turned to her._

_“I don’t think there’s anything useful in here,” she says disappointedly as she approaches him. “But I found all this weird stuff back there. It’s kinda cool, though, I guess. Do you wanna see?”_

_Luke doesn’t respond, and she slowly steps beside him to see what he’s distracted by. His head is hung low and there’s a jewellery rack on the counter in front of him. He’s holding one of the necklaces in his hands, gently rubbing his thumb over the pendant._

_Clementine peers at it curiously, then glances up at him in confusion. “Are you okay?” she asks._

_“Yeah- yeah. Sorry, it’s just…” he looks to her apologetically, then eyes the necklace in his palm again. “My mom- she used to have one of these, exactly like it. Used to wear it every day,” he reminisces, “You know, before everythin’ happened.”_

_Clementine looks to it again with sorrow in her eyes, observing it closer. The pendant is a shimmering, bright blue snowflake, with another small golden heart-shape attached to the necklace’s chain. She grins gently at the beauty of it._

_“She didn’t even make it a day, you know?” Luke exhales at length, still staring down at it. “The world broke into chaos and- before anyone knew, it just… happened right in front of me. Just like that.”_

_Clementine tilts her head to look up at him, resting her arms on top of the counter. “She’s in a better place now,” she comforts, and memories of her own parents begin to reach her mind. It’s something she regularly tells herself, too._

_“Yeah,” Luke nods faintly, glancing to her._

_It’s silent between them for a moment. Clementine frowns again, wishing he didn’t have to feel bad. “It’s you and me, now… remember?”_

_He smiles at her, and the girl’s comforting expression and tiny voice lightens his heart. “When did you start to become the wise one?” he jokes warmly._

_“_ You _told me that,” she giggles, playfully nudging him in the arm._

_“Yeah…” he agrees, recalling the day he said those exact words to her. “you and me, kid.”_

* * *

Clementine wakes with a painful headache, and every one of her limbs feel as if they haven’t moved in days. She moans when she flutters her eyes open, her head pounding even harder. She closes them again and twitches her fingers, feeling the surface of the bed beneath her. The senses begin to return to her muscles.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice says from somewhere close to her, and she doesn’t recognize the sound of it. “I was beginnin’ to think the effects wouldn’t wear off.”

She swallows from the dryness of her throat, her voice hoarse and broken. “What…?”

There’s a moment of silence, and all that can be heard is faint shuffling next to her, as well as light footsteps. “What’s your name?”

Every inch of her feels heavy and exhausted, like she’s being weighed down and is unable to move. But when she finally manages to open her eyes, Clementine turns her head to catch sight of a table with a tray of medical tools right next to her. The area is small and dim with a few lanterns illuminating the space. It must be some kind of doctor’s facility. There’s four walls surrounding her, but when she notices the grass on the ground, she realizes she’s actually in a large tent. There’s wooden framework in every corner, supporting the dark fabric ceiling.

“You were out of it for quite a long time.” The voice is only a distant echo in her head.

Clementine’s gaze wanders to the foot of the bed, and she notices a figure standing near the wall of the tent. Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of him, suddenly realizing she’s in a small, dark room with a stranger. He’s fairly young, and… he looks oddly familiar. But when she notices the bullet proof vest and the ammunition holster he wears, the distant memories of a black van and swarmed city streets suddenly rush back to her.

The gunmen… they had been hiding from them. Then the next thing she knew she was inhaling a cloud of gas and couldn’t see an inch in front of her. And then she felt her head start to spin until she couldn’t breathe any longer and everything had gone black.

_Oh, no… Luke._

She looks to the man in the room again, opening her eyes fully. His hands are casually shoved in his pockets, and he’s staring at her expectantly with a blank expression. He was the driver. The one who told them to search the area, and… they were all looking for someone.

“I need you to talk to me,” he says. His chin raises as he confidently strides towards the bed, like he wants to intimidate her.

“Don’t…” mumbles Clementine. Her heart pounds harder within her chest and her grip tightens on the edge of the bed until her knuckles go pale. When his hand slowly reaches out to touch her arm, she violently slaps his hand away and squeezes her eyes shut. “No- _don’t fucking touch me_!” she screams, and she jerks up to a sitting position.

In an instant, he grabs her arm to attempt to cease her violent outbreak, but she only yanks away from him, grunting, and he refuses to let go. Her other hand snatches the medical scissors on the table next to her, and various metal tools from the tray clatter to the ground in the process.

She raises them above his head, but he reflexively snatches her other wrist with an empty expression. Clementine holds the tools inches away from him while struggling to break free. He easily contains her, pushing her away.

Another set of hands grab her, and Clementine cries out when she feels something pierce the side of her neck. Her grip instantly loosens on the weapon.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, still maintaining his hold on her as the scissors lazily falls out of her fingers.

She feels her body going limp and her eyelids turn heavy, and everything around her fades into blackness once more.

* * *

When she opens her eyes again, she feels cold. Even without seeing where she is, she knows she’s in a different place. There’s no longer a bed beneath her, and the surface she lays on is hard and painful instead. It’s dark, and her eyes meet a wooden ceiling.

“Clem?”

She recognizes that voice this time. It’s familiar, and gentle, and so relievable to hear.

“Clem… Oh, thank god, you’re awake.” Luke is suddenly leaning above her now, and the next thing she knows she’s being pulled up by the arms to come to a sitting position on the floor. His hands hover around her as she feels the blood suddenly rush down her body.

“Luke,” she breathes, and tears threaten to fall just from the comforting sight of him. He smiles at her, breathing heavily, and her arms are wrapped around him so fast he almost falls back. “Oh, god…” she pants as she closes her eyes, feeling overwhelmed from the relief.

He hugs her back tightly, awed just from her affectionate outburst. He finds he’s at a loss for words, just as she is. All Luke can do is burrow his chin in her shoulder, thinking about how much she must need this, and the guilt from the past couple of days flood back to him again.

A moment later, panic suddenly hits him and Luke grips her by the shoulders, pulling her away from him. “Hey,” he says, “Did they hurt you?”

“No,” Clementine responds quickly, shaking her head. He sighs in relief, and she realizes how worried he must have been this whole time.

She whips her head around to observe her surroundings. It’s dark where they are, but there’s a small window above them where bright light shines through… and it’s shielded by iron bars. There’s more next to them, containing them in a certain corner. The building is completely made of wood, resembling some sort of cabin. Beyond the bars are a few different archways that lead to empty rooms, as well as a pair of large double doors a short way down the hall.

“Where are we?” Clementine asks, attempting to maintain the concern that reaches her voice. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, we’re- we’re in some kind of camp. I woke up in here… a few hours ago, maybe. And when they didn’t tell me where you were, I thought… I- I don’t know. I just-” Luke pants, gazing worriedly around the room. He doesn’t dare let his mind wander back to those horrible thoughts.

He’d been so afraid for her. She could’ve been alive or dead, or hurt. There was no way of knowing, and Luke had no choice but to sit there and wait. There may have not even been anything to wait for… he just didn’t know. He had tried everything to escape, but the bars were securely built into the wooden floor, and there was no hope in breaking the shielded window without a tool. They’d taken all his weapons and backpack while he was passed out, including his pocket knife. He was left completely useless.

Then the doors had suddenly opened a couple of hours later and they’d dumped Clementine in there with him, unconscious. He rushed to her side instantly, desperately checking for a heartbeat. “ _She’s delirious_ ,” the man had said to him, then left without another word. The doors had loudly slammed shut and the room was encased in darkness again.

Luke briefly lowers his head to the ground, composing himself. “Listen, Clem,” he tightens his grip on her arms. “The guys that run this place… they are _not_ nice people, you hear me?”

Frightened by his serious tone, her eyebrows crease in confusion and she stares into his intense eyes. Then she nods faintly, speechless.

“Those guys you ran into, back in the town? ‘Kay, they were _with_ ‘em.” He assumed it at first, but it’s the only explanation he can think of for why they’re being held here.

Clementine inhales. “I know,” she says, holding a nearly blank expression.

Luke averts her gaze, thinking, then turns back to her with hurt in his eyes. He doesn’t understand why she seems so calm. “Clem… what they did to you…” he begins softly, his face contorting from the memories, “it ain’t right. You know that, don’t you?”

Sorrow suddenly flashes across her features and she turns her head away, uncomfortably chewing on the inside of her lip.

He sighs. “I’m gonna get us outta here, okay?” Luke continues with determination. “I- I don’t know how, but… we’ll- we’ll figure somethin’ out… ‘kay, I promise.”

* * *

Later that day, someone finally opens the doors to the cell again. Clementine recognizes him instantly as the man from before. The one she was with in the tent when she first woke up. The one she attacked, before something had put her to sleep again.

The bright morning light momentarily illuminates the room when he walks in, and Luke notices an armed guard keeping watch just outside the building. The door closes shut behind him and they’re encased in darkness again.

“Oh, good. You’re both awake,” he says casually while strolling towards them.

Memories of seeing him back at the town rush back to Luke, and he remembers when he’d brought Clementine to the cell, too… as if she was nothing. Suddenly filled with anger just from the sight of him, Luke quickly strides closer to the bars, gripping them. “Who the hell are you?” he jeers, “What do you want from us?”

He smirks, unfazed by his urgency. “It’s Bennett. We go by last names around here,” he informs, and Clementine glares at him from behind Luke. “I don’t suppose you’d both wanna share yours?”

“Why would we?” Luke responds with malice.

“Fair enough,” he grins again, amused. “As for the other question? Well, I’m sure you could answer that one for yourselves.”

Luke only responds with a dangerous glare as Bennett begins pacing back and forth on the other side of the bars.

“That’s exactly what I came to talk to you about, actually. See, exactly two days ago, two of my men went into town for one of our group’s monthly supply runs. My brother was one of ‘em. He’s a good man, always lookin’ out for the group,” he pauses, glancing back at Luke as if checking for a reaction. “He volunteered to cover the area, so I assigned ‘em to it expecting their return that night. But the thing is,” Bennett stops in front of Luke, staring intensely into his eyes, “they never came back.”

Clementine’s heartrate increases just from his threatening tone, and she warily glances to Luke then back at him.

“We figured they may have gotten holed up somewhere, fightin’ against the dead,” Bennett explains. “But after two days of waitin’, a group of us decided to go into town searchin’ for ‘em, and instead… we came back with you.”

Luke scoffs sarcastically. “Yeah, well there’s a lot of dead out there these days. Not everyone can be so lucky.”

“See, that’s the curious thing. That city didn’t seem to have a _single_ biter on those streets,” Bennett tests, pretending to be deep in thought while looking at the ceiling. “Come to think of it, how _did_ you two manage to clear out an entire town on your own?” he questions. “Then again, I’m sure you’ve been managin’ just fine, judgin’ by all them weapons you had.”

_The weapons you took from us_ , Luke judges silently.

“Not to mention your tendency to _kill_ whoever is in your path,” Bennett finishes accusingly.

“Don’t tempt me,” snarls Luke, tightly gripping the bars in front of his face.

He ignores Luke’s comment and continues to pace across the room. “Now, I’m only gonna ask you once and I want you to answer me truthfully,” he starts. “How is it that our men just disappeared when they went into that town, yet you seem to have been the only other people livin’ there?”

From his implied accusation, Clementine looks worriedly to Luke again, but his stern expression remains unfaltering. He only continues to glare angrily into his eyes.

“You see what I’m sayin’? It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together,” Bennett states smugly.

“So why keep us in here? Why not just kill us if you’re so sure we had somethin’ to do with it?” asks Luke.

He ponders the question, rubbing his hands together. “We have three of our own confirmed dead, and two missin’. If what I believe is true, we wanna know _why_. And we wanna know where they are. But I can’t guarantee your survival if you don’t tell me what I want to hear.”

“Why does it matter?” Luke exclaims in disbelief. “No matter what we tell you, you’ll just kill us either way.”

“Because I know you wouldn’t have done what you did unless you had somethin’ to hide. Either way, you’re _both_ killers.” Bennett recalls the man they had found dead just before activating the gas bomb. They had found the other two shortly afterwards. “ _My_ men, the men I swore to protect, to keep this group alive, you murdered them in cold blood!” he accuses with anger rising in his voice.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t done a thing or two you ain’t exactly proud of,” Luke points out defensively. “We do what we need to… to survive! Those bastards would’ve killed us first if they had the chance.”

“Well, until we find them, I’m keepin’ you alive. I have to know _for sure_ … what happened to him.” Despair briefly flashes across his features, and he gazes longingly at the ground. After a moment, he turns to Luke again with determination, his voice stern again. “I’m sendin’ another unit back out to that town, and you had better change your mind about tellin’ me what you know before they find something they don’t want to,” Bennett stresses threateningly, then slowly shakes his head at Luke and Clementine, as if he’s disappointed. “You’re dangerous people, and I won’t have you around any longer than I need to.”

“ _We’re_ dangerous?” Luke argues, his voice raising. “‘Cause I don’t see us usin’ sleepin’ gas on people then lockin’ them in cages like fuckin’ animals!”

He chuckles darkly. “It’s funny you should say that. Because the way _I_ see it, not only did you kill three of my men during our little… _complication_ back at the town…” he describes it lightly, then Bennett shifts to focus his gaze on Clementine, his voice lowering dangerously. “but she tried to kill _me_ as well… when all I wanted to do was talk.”

Luke blinks in shock, looking over his shoulder at Clementine a distance behind him. She glares darkly at Bennett, her fists clenching by her sides as her knuckles turn pale.

Bennett raises his eyebrows at Luke’s surprised reaction. “Did she not tell you about that?” he asks slowly, amused. “She started screaming at me. Tried to stab me with a pair of scissors, and I had to stop her before she did. Injected her, in fact.”

“Fuck you,” Clementine bites back, her voice low.

The gears turn in Luke’s mind. They had _drugged_ her? He struggles to piece together what exactly happened while she was kept away from him. She had told him they didn’t hurt her.

“So, she _does_ speak,” Bennett strides closer towards the bars, refusing to take his eyes off Clementine all of a sudden. “I never did get your name, sweetie.”

“Hey! _You_ don’t fuckin’ talk to her, you understand?” Luke shouts, stepping in between them and forcing Bennett to look at him instead.

He only tilts his head at his outburst, seeming to think nothing of it, then begins slowly pacing back and forth in front of the bars again. “They say that violent outbursts are a part of havin’ a troubled mind,” Bennett states casually, his tone level. He peers at Clementine again, as if he’s trying to taunt her. “Some kind of… _mental_ illness of sorts.”

“ _Shut up_!” Luke screams, grasping the bars again. Anger boils within his eyes. It’s like Bennett is deliberately trying to push him, both of them.

“She attempted murder! She’s disturbed. And you better be sure that girl don’t kill you in your sleep!” Bennett bellows back, the bars being the only thing separating them.

Luke clenches his teeth, rage threatening to explode from inside him. He wonders why Bennett takes such an interest in something that is so irrelevant to him. He has no right to imply such things. He doesn’t know a thing about her, about either of them.

Bennett’s voice is calmer when he speaks again. “Who can tell? She could’ve slaughtered my brother just for the fun of it, because of whatever bullshit’s goin’ on in that pretty little fucked up head of hers.” With a final glare shot Luke’s way, Bennett swiftly turns on his heel and triumphantly strides towards the door.

Luke jerks to clutch the bars. They rattle from his body slamming into them, and he screams at the top of his lungs, “ _They fuckin’ raped her, do you hear me_?!”

Clementine flinches.

“ _She’s only seventeen years old! You wanna look for ‘em? Go right ahead! I fuckin’ killed ‘em_!” Bennett doesn’t look back or even seem to be listening as the door loudly slams shut behind him. The bang echoes throughout the room and they’re left alone in darkness once more, but Luke’s booming voice only continues to shout louder with every word. “ _Those bastards ain’t even comin’ back from the dead! Your piece of shit brother got what he deserved, and you better rot in hell with ‘em, you son of a bitch_!”

Luke stares after the closed door with panting breaths, and Clementine vomits at her feet.


	5. Sacrifices

She hasn’t eaten in days. She avoided it, for the first little while. She didn’t feel hungry, she just felt tired. And now, it’s been three days without food for her, and Luke despises himself for forgetting about it. He’d been so caught up in everything that’s been happening, and all he’d been thinking about was getting them away from this place. He hadn’t realized how frail she must be feeling.

Luke doesn’t piece it together until he sees her doubled over with a hand on her stomach, and he notices her shaking hands and trembling breaths.

He’d just been _so_ angry, he can’t remember a time he was so full of rage. Bennett just wanted to convince them there was something wrong with her. But it wasn’t _just_ what he said. It was everything, hitting Luke all at once; Clementine not eating, sleeping too much, and asking him questions that she shouldn’t have to ask... She wouldn’t be going through any of that if it wasn’t for _his men_. And he has the nerve to judge her? Luke and Clementine are only locked up because of something that had to be done. Luke wouldn’t have had to kill anyone if they didn’t give him a reason to in the first place.

And Clementine was just standing there, listening to them shout at each other back and forth about her. Then when Luke had finally told Bennett what actually happened, she felt her entire heart shatter all over again, and a part of the reason was just from hearing the words spoken aloud. For the first time, she’d heard how angry Luke was about it… how it really made him feel.

She had backed into the wall as she felt her entire body begin to go numb, and she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her feet any longer. She couldn’t listen to them, she didn’t want to hear it. The memories of that awful day had just suddenly rushed back to her all at once, but Luke only continued to scream at him about it. She felt like it was never going to stop. It was all so overwhelming, and painful to hear, and the thoughts made her sick to the stomach, and then she had just thrown up.

Clementine tells him she’s fine but Luke knows she’s weak, and he apologizes for not having anything to give her. He ignores her when she repeatedly apologizes for it, his mind too caught up in worrying about how much his harsh words had affected her. Eventually, they let it go, and neither of them know what to say anymore.

After that, time only continues to pass by them in that cell and they don’t even know how long it’s been where neither one has spoken. So, Clementine sits there with her back against the wall, and she’s drained of all energy. The feeling was there yesterday, and the day before that, but it isn’t until now that she acknowledges it. She feels sick, but it continues to subside with every passing minute.

“You wanna know what happened… don’t you?” Clementine finally breaks the silence, her voice just above a whisper.

“What?” Luke asks, and he turns to look at her from the other side of the cell.

She glances at him, then back down again. “I see the way you look at me. Like… you feel bad,” she murmurs. “Like the sight of me just breaks you.”

Then Luke understands what she means, and even though he wishes it weren’t the case, it’s true what she says. He feels… worse than bad. And every time he looks at her, it only reminds him of what he couldn’t do. He wasn’t able to save her sooner that day, and that kills him with every passing moment.

“Clem…” he begins softly.

“You look at me and you wonder… but you don’t tell me what you’re thinking,” ponders Clementine. She hadn’t known how furious he felt about it until today.

Luke steps towards her at her spot on the ground, his shuffling footsteps echoing throughout the room. For once, he wishes she didn’t know him so well. He didn’t think he had made it so obvious, but he doesn’t bother denying it. “Clem, you don’t have to.”

“Would it make you feel better?” she asks in a somber tone.

He hesitates and runs a hand through his hair, conflicting answers battling within his mind. He wonders endlessly about that day, and how it happened. It’s something he hasn’t been able to escape. But at the same time, he thinks knowing would only destroy him more.

“I- I don’t know,” Luke answers truthfully, sighing in defeat.

She nods faintly, chewing on her lip. It’s eerily silent between them again and Luke watches her as she seems to be deep in thought, like she’s debating what to say. Clementine picks at her fingernails, then her soft voice reaches his ears again.

“You know, I thought… you’d like to read comics again,” she begins, “You always told me about… all the different superheroes. But I kept getting them confused.”

He smirks at the memory. She had once told him she didn’t know all the names, and he forgot how young she had been when this all started. He’d promised to teach her all about it one day.

As Clementine speaks, she tries too hard to smile, and Luke notices it. “I let my guard down for too long and… then I didn’t have my weapons anymore. I didn’t know what to do.”

Luke slides down the wall to sit beside her. Clementine doesn’t look at him, but he can’t take his eyes off her. He struggles to read her expression. It’s empty, yet so full of emotion at the same time, and he wonders how she can even talk about it so calmly. His eyes focus on the purple bruise along her jaw again. It’s healed a little bit, but it’s still there.

Luke turns away, biting his lip. “He hit you?” Luke’s not even sure if it’s a question or not. The thought of it makes him angry all over again, and it takes everything in him to keep it contained. Still, he has to know.

When she nods slowly, he heavily leans his head on the wall behind him in distress. He scoffs just from hearing confirmation of what he’d already known.

She hugs her arms. “You know, they- they said something about… taking turns but, I- I couldn’t hear anything after that,” Clementine attempts to shake the thought away as soon as the words escape her lips, and she grins painfully to cover up the crack in her voice. It fades quickly though, and she looks over to Luke with tears welling in her eyes. “I was so scared,” she whispers.

All he can do is just stare back at her, feeling devastated and far from words. He wishes he could kill those bastards all over again, and again, but it wouldn’t even begin to describe how he feels.

She peers forward into nothing, the memories haunting her and flashing images in her mind. She pulls her knees to her chest. “Next thing I know, he’s… pushing my head down and I’m bent over a table,” her voice gets louder, and it trembles more with every word. “I- I couldn’t hear anything… or-or _see_ anything. And I couldn’t move… You know, like I was stuck.” Then after a moment she swallows the lump in her throat and blinks back her tears, locking eyes with Luke again. “I just wanted it to end,” she croaks.

Luke feels his throat tighten achingly just from hearing her describe it. For the past couple of days, he was always talking to her, telling her stories or just keeping her company throughout the day. He’d say anything to take her mind off it. He hadn’t expected her to ever talk about what happened. It’s not something he wanted her to revisit. And now, Luke realizes this is the most Clementine has spoken since, and for once, he’s the one listening to her.

All those years ago he had promised himself he’d be there for her, and he failed. As he watched her grow older, Clementine became stronger, and for a while he didn’t think she needed him anymore. But she does now more than she ever has, and Luke swears to her that he’ll never make the same mistake again.

* * *

The next night, Clementine is jerked awake from her sleep when she feels rough hands tugging on her arm. She’s forcefully pulled to her feet and she stumbles from standing up so quickly. “Hey!” she shouts. “Let go of me!” There’s someone restraining her, and more than one of them are in the room. Their forms are barely visible from how dark it is. Only the moonlight shines through the single window, and Clementine realizes it’s still the middle of the night. The rain patters on the roof above them.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, what’s goin’ on?” Luke exclaims from somewhere next to her as he too is forced to stand. “Hey, take it easy!” There’s two guards in the cell with them, and one is restraining Clementine’s wrists behind her while the other wrestles with a struggling Luke.

The man finally maintains a firm hold on him, and Clementine glances between the two guards in a panic as they begin to tie both their hands behind their backs. The one behind her yanks on the rope, pulling it tightly around her wrists and she gasps in pain. The guards remain silent as Luke and Clementine continue to splutter out a series of panicked questions.

Next thing they know, they’re being pushed through the cell door and down the hall, stumbling on their own feet. They can hardly identify where they’re walking through the darkness of the building.

The guard’s grip on Luke’s arms tighten painfully. “Ah!” he exclaims. “Hey! Does someone wanna tell us what the fuck’s happenin’?”

“Shut up!” the man barks back at him, and Luke jumps from the booming voice so close to his ear.

As the wooden double doors are pushed open and the cool night breeze reaches their skin, Luke and Clementine suddenly halt in their tracks, stunned. Their eyes meet the outside for the first time in two days, and it isn’t until now that they realize how long they’ve been kept in that cell.

They’re in a camp, and there’s various cabins and tents littered throughout the forest. There doesn’t appear to be walls along the outside, but large rustling trees tower over the entire area, completely encasing it within the woods. The sky is black above them, and it’s raining. There’s fiery torches mounted along every path and alongside the cabins, creating a dim glow under the night sky.

This whole time, they hadn’t even known where they were. They’d both been unconscious when they were taken here, and their only connection to the outside world was the small window in the cell that was too high for them to see anything out of anyway.

As Luke and Clementine stare in shock at the settlement before them with their mouths agape, the two guards from behind aggressively shove them towards the bottom of the stairs. “Keep movin’, we ain’t got all night here,” one of them orders. They obediently continue forward, following the path.

They’re led through the camp in silence, neither one of them choosing to speak any further words. A million thoughts are scattered around Luke’s mind as they’re forced to continue their steps. The guards were reluctant to say where they were going, but Clementine is too tired to even think of the possibilities. They haven’t walked this much since they were first brought here. They’ve barely even moved at all, and now she’s being shoved in the back constantly and she can barely keep up.

There’s a few other guards spread out within the camp. Some stand by their posts while others stalk along the paths, and they’re all carrying assault rifles in their arms. Clementine presumes there’s more of them elsewhere, and figures these men are only on watch duty since it’s the middle of the night.

A pair of them stride past, peering at Luke and Clementine with smug grins on their faces and her breath catches in her throat. She lowers her gaze to the muddy path beneath her as the reality of the situation hits her. They’re prisoners here, and everyone but them seems to know where they’re going. Her hands begin to shake again.

“Move it, girl.” Clementine grunts as the guard behind her aggressively shoves his rifle into her back again, and she didn’t even realize how much she had slowed down. God, she just feels so _weak_.

It seems like a lifetime has passed when they’re finally led up the hill and around the corner of a large cabin. There’s now a wide empty space before them with numerous flaming torches mounted around the area. And in the middle, stands a group of leering men.

They begin shouting in the distance as Luke and Clementine are forced to approach them. Bennett stands still in front of the crowd, completely unspeaking within the rowdy men, and he’s _smirking_. He’s wearing a black leather jacket around his slim form, and a machete is now holstered across his back instead of the ammunition belt. Luke snarls from just the sight of him.

Clementine wants to stop. She wants to turn around, even though she knows they can’t. It’s two against this entire settlement, and they all have guns. They wouldn’t be able to make it a single step. So, she continues to march towards them, getting closer and closer, and her heart beats faster with every second. They’re all just peering at them, raising their torches in the air and snarling like they’re a couple of animals on display. Luke and Clementine can’t make out what they’re saying, it’s just a chorus of frantic cheers and snarky comments shouted all at once.

When the two of them are shoved through the crowd, Clementine refuses to look at any of their faces. They emerge into a small clearing on the other side, and they realize the men are formed in a wide circle around them. It isn’t until they’re both pushed down onto their knees that they finally see the bodies.

There’s five of them, and they all lay in a row on the ground directly in front of them. Clementine squints through the rain, wet strands of hair clinging to her face. Three of the bodies all have remnants of an arrow stuck within their foreheads, and another with a large wedge missing from the top of his skull. The smell of rotting flesh is insufferable.

“Clementine!” Luke calls as he kneels in the mud next to her, struggling from the two guards restraining him. Though, she barely hears his voice as she instantly recognizes the fifth figure laid in front of them, and her breath catches in her throat.

“You don’t- you don’t have to look, Clem,” Luke pants, and she snaps her head to the side, looking away from the last corpse as she begins to feel sick again.

It’s the man from the comic book store, the one Luke had saved her from.

Clementine squeezes her eyes shut as tears threaten to fall just from the sight of him. She can’t look at that man. Not without reliving it.

“What’s the matter? You ain’t ever seen a dead guy before?” teases the guard standing behind her, and he bends down to aggressively grip her jaw, forcing her to look at the mangled face. She whimpers, and the men erupt into a roar of laughter around them.

“I bet she ain’t ever done a lotta things,” another one of them comments in a sly tone.

 “Clem!” cries Luke, but they continue to yank his shoulders back as he has no choice but to watch them taunt her.

Clementine stares at the dead man’s face as he continues to push her chin towards it, her chest rapidly rising and falling. It’s distorted with a clearly broken nose and multiple large cracks in his skull, and coated in dried blood. She thinks back to that day, and how she had seen Luke repeatedly pummelling on the guy’s face well after he stopped breathing.

Then she feels like her face is pressed against a table again, and she’s screaming in pain… and it won’t stop.

‘ _You still wanna keep quiet, princess_?’

She hears his hoarse voice again, reverberating off the walls in her head. Her heartbeat pummels against her chest, increasing by the second. It sounds so clear, yet so far away, and just the sound of it haunts her mind.

The guard leans further over Clementine from behind and she’s snapped back into reality, his cheek brushing against hers as his palm rests on her neck. She fights to muffle her sobs, refusing to let them break her. The men continue to snicker, a few of them even whistling within the crowd.

She feels humiliated, just kneeling there on the ground with her hands tied behind her back, and a man’s hand slowly trailing down her throat. Luke continues to shout and struggle only a few feet away from her, completely helpless.

“That’s enough,” interrupts an authoritative voice, and the noise of the men suddenly dissolve into nothing but hushed muttering.

Grumbling, the guard fiercely pushes Clementine’s head to the side as he releases her, and she gasps in relief.

Footsteps approach from somewhere around them, and Bennett soon emerges into view. The orange torches cast shadows on his blank face as he strolls around the row of bodies.

Bennett glares at each of the muted men, pursing his lips in thought. Finally, he stops pacing, and the tense silence becomes more intimidating with every second. “Five men,” he announces. “We have lost five men, in less than one week.” He continues to stroll around the bodies, as well as Luke and Clementine’s spot on the ground. “They were all strong, and noble, and a true gift to our group.”

Clementine keeps her head low as he walks behind her, her gaze fixed in her lap.

“Now, I once swore to protect you!” Bennett continues, then his voice gradually evolves into an angry shout. “We’ve built a strong society here, and we ain’t gonna let _no one_ take that away from us!”

The men explode into a chorus of cheers, and some of them passionately raise their torches in their air with vengeance.

“We have lost some of our own, and who do we have to blame?!” roars Bennett, and they answer him in unison, furiously gesturing to their two helpless prisoners. Clementine’s eyes widen in a panic, and Luke huffs in irritation through gritted teeth.

Bennett turns to them accusingly with boiling hatred. “These people _killed_ our own. They _killed my brother_! And they have torn this group apart! And I wanted you all to see their miserable faces one last time,” Bennett shakes his head pitifully at them. “The faces… of what a true murderer looks like!”

They finally realize why they were brought here. The day before, Bennett had told them he was sending another group out to town to search the area for their men. They must have just found the bodies and come back with them, and they wasted no time in letting Luke and Clementine know about it.

As the group continues jeering in excitement, Luke grunts as he struggles to break free from the two guards’ hold on him. “Killin’ us won’t make you any less of a murderer yourself!” he yells back at Bennett over the deafening noise.

He turns to Luke with an amused expression, then slowly approaches him. “A life for a life, boy. We make sacrifices to survive in this world. It’s just the way it is now.” He outstretches his arms in triumph as he speaks, chuckling. Then he bends down to Luke’s eye level and his voice lowers dangerously. “And you can be sure I’m gonna enjoy every damn second of it.” Turning his back to Luke, Bennett proclaims once more. “These people need to _pay_ for what they’ve done! And I can assure you, I ain’t gonna rest until they get what they deserve!”

He snickers in victory at his men’s enthusiastic reaction. Clementine glares at Bennett from afar as the members of the crowd all start suggesting different ways to kill someone. One of them pretends to slit his own throat with his knife, and she winces from the viciousness of it.

“ _I_ killed ‘em all,” Luke suddenly interrupts in a calm voice, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

His expression remains hard and unfaltering as they all slowly face him at once, their words dying on their lips. Bennett eyes Luke curiously, and moments pass by where no one says a thing.

Luke glares up at Bennett with confidence, locking eyes with him. “I killed em’,” he repeats louder, “ _all_ of ‘em!”

“Luke!” exclaims Clementine with worry evident in her tone. She knows what he’s doing. Luke didn’t kill all the men, they _both_ did. And now he’s trying to take the blame.

He ignores the sound of her protest next to him, and his focus remains on Bennett instead. “So, just- just do whatever you want with me but please, she- she had nothin’ to do with this!” Luke pleads as his voice begins to waver.

“What are you doing?” Clementine splutters, leaning closer to him.

“It’s all right, Clem,” he comforts softly while finally turning his attention to her. “Don’t you worry about me. You just… you just focus on gettin’ yourself outta here, you hear me?” Luke lowers his voice so she’s the only one that can hear, but it comes out rushed and panicked rather than reassuring. Just by the look on his face, Clementine can tell he’s scared, and that only frightens her more.

“No! They’ll kill you!” she shouts with desperation, refusing to confide in what he’s telling her.

Luke and Clementine tearfully lock eyes, and his broken expression tells her how sorry he is.

After a moment, an armed guard approaches Bennett from behind, peering at him questioningly. “Sir?”

It turns silent around them, and Bennett observes the kneeling pair with deep consideration. He chews on his lip in thought, and the men patiently await his orders. “Leave the boy with me,” he finally decides.

“And the girl?” asks the guard.

Bennett peers down at Clementine. Her and Luke only listen in defeat as their fates are decided for them, and they don’t take their eyes off each other the whole time. She finds herself at a loss for words, and tears begin to well up in her eyes again.

“Take her back to the cell. I’ll figure out what to do with her when I’m done here.” He slowly approaches the two, observing her. “ _Clementine_ , is it?” he asks.

She ignores him.

“Well, ain’t that a pretty name. Come to think of it… maybe it won’t be so bad keepin’ a woman around here, for once,” Bennett concludes mischievously. He subtly nods to his men in affirmation, and Clementine grunts as she’s suddenly pulled to her feet. They all begin hollering again, whistling loudly as she struggles to break free.

“Luke!” she shouts, her focus far from the men around her. As she fights, the guards’ hold on her is broken long enough for her to hurriedly stumble towards him. “I won’t leave you,” Clementine insists, leaning forward to his eye level.

“Go on, now. I’ll be fine,” Luke scrambles to console her with a shaky voice, attempting to nudge her away from him even with his hands fastened behind his back. They both know he’s lying. But if he doesn’t give himself up, they’ll kill her too. As much as it hurts him, he’d rather she be alive with the chance of escaping, instead of dead. “Go!” he yells.

Clementine’s stare pleads with him.

_Why are you doing this?_

There’s hurt in her eyes, and she opens her mouth to speak again before she’s grabbed from behind and they quickly pull her away. Neither of them have time to react as Clementine gradually fades away from Luke’s view, disappearing through the crowd as she kicks and shouts.

Panting heavily, Luke peers through the group of men well after she’s gone.

“Get the truck,” a demanding voice orders from somewhere next to him before a figure blocks his view. Everyone around them begins to shuffle elsewhere while muttering softly to each other.

“Yes, sir,” says a small response in the near distance.

Luke glares upwards to meet eyes with Bennett, who’s now standing over him with his hands on his hips. “Don’t worry,” he begins, now turning his full attention to Luke kneeling on the ground. “We’ll take good care of her while you’re gone.”

Luke scoffs, holding his tongue while his eyes take a greater interest in the ground rather than Bennett.

“Don’t beat yourself up too bad, huh?” he continues with a casual tone, tilting his head. “You understand, don’t you?” Luke remains unresponsive, and Bennett purses his lips while momentarily gazing out into the distance. Then he peers downwards again, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. “This is just how it needs to be.”

Luke slowly lifts his chin, but before his eyes can fully meet his, Bennett’s fist strikes the side of Luke’s head and he recoils from the first blow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I actually cried while writing that first scene??? But I also laughed evilly a whole lot too?? Anyway there’s only 2 or 3 chapters after this one! Unless I end up getting new ideas again… then I can’t stop writing. Also, thank you to everyone who has been reading so far and to those who have left me their thoughtful reviews! It means the world to me!


	6. Blame

“No-- _wait_!” Clementine exclaims as she’s pushed through the cell door, and the guard restraining her quickly unties the ropes around her wrists. “Please, you can’t do this!”  He shoves her to the back of the room, and she whips around to sprint towards the door, before he suddenly slams it shut directly in her face. “ _Let me out_!” Clementine demands as she constantly yanks on the door, the rattling metal echoing throughout the empty cabin.

The keys jingle loudly as the guard turns the lock, and she continues to yell after him, but he’s already walking further and further away from her. The man exits through the double doors as they slam closed behind him, presumably leaving to keep watch from outside the building.

Darkness floods the room as Clementine is left alone, but she only continues to shake the bars with desperation, refusing to give up.

Luke is out there, and they’re planning to _execute_ him. It could be happening right now and she won’t be able to do anything about it because she’s locked in this prison. If she just sits and does nothing, she knows she won’t be able to live with herself.

Why did Luke have to be so stupid, and just give himself up so simply? It was like he hadn’t even hesitated. Clementine should have known he’d do something like that. Of course, it had been for her. If there’s one thing she knows all too well about him, it’s that Luke is stubborn, and he cares about her life more than his own. And Clementine _hates_ it.

She grunts, breathing heavily as she slams herself into the bars, and the clattering sound deafens her own ears. Her entire body aches from the impact, but she thrusts into them again, and again…

This is all because of her. They only wound up in this place because she’s the one who got involved with the wrong people, and she’s dragged Luke into it. And now he’s giving up his own life so that she can live. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

No one will answer her shouts, but Clementine knows the guard who brought her here is only positioned just outside the door. She figures he’s sure to hear the jolting ruckus she’s making. So, she repeatedly pushes herself harder into the gate, squeezing her eyes shut and shouting for someone to let her out. With each blow, she finds her body becoming more exhausted, and she doesn’t even know how long she does it for.

Still, she can’t give up now. She _has_ to get to Luke before it’s too late.

“ _Hey_! Keep it down, will you?” snaps the guard from earlier as he marches towards her, and Clementine is so caught up in her outrage, she hadn’t even noticed when he walked back in.

Ignoring his demands, she aggressively jams her shoulder into the bars again as he continues to approach her.

“I ain’t fuckin’ around, girl!” he warns when she doesn’t stop, and pulls the pistol out of his holster. He doesn’t point the weapon, but he threateningly holds it between them while barking orders. The guard comes to a halt in front of her, the two now face to face. “Hey, I said _shut up_! Did you not--"

Clementine’s hands shoot out through the bars as she grabs him by the collar and yanks his body into the gate. The man fires his pistol in a panic and misses, but his head roughly collides with the metal between them and the weapon clatters onto the ground.

The guard groans in pain, so she violently slams him into the bars again… and then a third time. Clementine grunts as his blood splatters onto her face, then the man finally tumbles into a heavy heap on the floor.

Silence fills the room, and she momentarily eyes the still body at her feet. There’s a large gaping crack in the center of his forehead with blood oozing from it, and she presumes by the significant head wound that he won’t be coming back from the dead. Still, she can’t be too sure.

The sound of faint static suddenly buzzes somewhere nearby. “ _I just heard a gunshot coming from the prison. Everything all right in there? Over_.”

Clementine spots the walkie talkie clipped to the man’s belt, and her breath worriedly catches in her throat. Muffled yells can also be heard from outside, and she realizes everyone in the camp would have definitely heard that shot.

“ _Morgan, do you copy? Every biter for miles would’ve heard that,”_ he hisses with annoyance.

Hurriedly kneeling down, Clementine reaches as far as she can through the bars for the pistol laying on the ground a short distance away.

A different man speaks through the device this time, maintaining a calmer tone. “ _Anderson here. We’re headin’ over there to check it out. Over and out_.”

The metal gate painfully presses into her shoulder as she reaches through. Her fingertips barely brush the handle of the weapon and her heart pounds rapidly in her chest when the distant voices from outside become louder.

Finally, Clementine manages to flick the pistol towards her and quickly snatches it through the bars, exhaling with relief.

“What the fuck’s going on in here?!” The doors down the hall burst open with a bang.

She quickly rises to her feet and fires, instantenously shooting each of the men in the head as they rush inside with their weapons raised. There’s three of them, and they all fall into a pile on the ground before they were even able to lay eyes on her.

Gripping the pistol tightly with both hands, Clementine keeps it raised after the bodies collapse to be sure there are no others coming.

Then she catches sight of the fiery torch rolling away from one of the corpse’s limp hands. After a still moment, it travels across the wooden floor, leaving a trail of glowing sparks directly behind it.

With panic in her wide eyes, Clementine scrambles to tuck the pistol into the back of her jeans and bends down on the floor again. Reaching through the bars once more, she strenuously drags the first guard’s body closer to her, groaning from the heavy weight of it.

“Come on, come on…” she mutters to herself in frustration while digging through every one of his pockets for the keys.

The flames from the spilled torch gradually evolve and spread across the floor, illuminating the dark room.

After finding nothing, Clementine’s weak arms tremble as she struggles to roll him onto his other side. She pulls with all her strength, lifting the heavy body up just long enough to grab the ring of keys from his back pocket.

Soon after, the flames begin to trail up the walls and smoke fills the small room.

Standing again with shaking muscles, Clementine reaches a hand through to the other side and she can’t even see where the keyhole is positioned. She jams them into the door one by one, but none of the keys seem to be the right fit. Another one is harshly shoved into the tiny opening, but it ends up being too big and gets jammed inside. Her breath trembles while attempting to yank it out.

The fire has spread towards her place at the bars now, and she groans again while violently tugging on the jammed key once more. It doesn’t budge, and she feels herself sweating from the heat. Clementine glances up to the room around her as the sound of the flames crackle in her ears.

The entire cabin is made of wooden planks, except for the metal bars containing her. They’re built into the floor and ceiling, as well as the walls. If the fire spreads to a certain point, maybe the wood will weaken enough so it can’t support the bars anymore.

So, she steps back and waits for it to burn, coughing repeatedly from the black smoke filling her lungs. Soon, the entire room is ignited, and the bright flames in every direction blind her eyes.

Clementine notices that the floor underneath the bars begin to glow orange from the inside, so she fiercely kicks on the gate. The entire barred wall sways from the impact, shifting in place. Ashes shower her from above as the ceiling cracks, and the planks of wood underneath her feet burn at the corners.

Clementine kicks once more with added force, and the gate finally gives in. It heavily topples over and clatters onto the ground.

Stumbling over the collapsed bars and down the short hallway, Clementine bursts through the building’s front doors and her suffocating lungs finally reach air again. The chilling night breeze is relieving to her burning skin, and her eyes sting from the excessive smoke. She bends forward, coughing, and the sounds of distant shouts begin to reach her ears.

“ _Holy shit! How the fuck did that happen_?!”

“ _What’s going on_?”

After Clementine catches her breath, she hurriedly races down the path without glancing back at the burning building behind her.

The pouring downfall has subsided somewhat, but the rain still manages to cloud her vision along with all the smoke. Crackling flames can be heard from behind, and bright sparks float all around her. She can’t see anybody through her hazy vision, but there’s confused voices all around her in the near distance.

“ _Sir! We got a fire in the west region, please respond! Over_.”

No one seemed to have seen her run out, so they might think she’s still inside. But it won’t be long until they piece together what happened and come searching for her.

Clementine struggles to recall the exact route the guards had first walked her and Luke through. She knew to take note of certain landmarks, but she’s so overwhelmed in the moment that she can’t remember any of them. The whole camp looks the same, and she begins to panic from the fear of someone finding her before she can reach Luke.

The burning fire seems to be spreading through the forest faster than Clementine can run, and she catches sight of flames following her in her peripheral vision, igniting every tent, cabin, and tree along the muddy paths.

Eventually, vicious snarling can be heard from somewhere nearby and she follows the deafening sound of it. When Clementine reaches her destination around the corner of a familiar building, she recognizes the wide open grassy space before her. It’s where her and Luke were taken not too long ago, and by the chorus of frantic shouts in the distance, Clementine presumes the group of men are still here.

There’s a crowd of them with their backs turned to her, but it’s exceptionally larger than before. It’s as if the entire settlement had gathered here just for this.

Beyond the men, multiple lanky figures stumble forward while groaning in unison. They’re so far away, but Clementine can tell by the way they carry themselves that they aren’t people; they’re walkers.

There’s a white van parked nearby with large double doors at the back that are propped wide open. A dozen more walkers stumble out the back of the large vehicle, creating a long trail of them that only seems to grow by the second.

There’s so many people that Clementine barely notices when she catches sight of Luke through an opening in the crowd. He’s still alive, and she feels as if she can breathe again from the sight of him. His hands remain secured behind his back, but the rope is now attached to a wooden post and Luke’s unable to move.

Surrounding him and the van of walkers, is a short wooden fence that keeps Luke separated from everyone else. The area has been completely closed off, and the rowdy men all surround the outside of the fence.

Clementine’s eyes worriedly scan around as she pieces together the chaotic scene before her. They’re purposely releasing walkers into their camp, and the dead are all being drawn directly towards Luke. They tied him there as bait, and they’d been planning to kill him by allowing him to get eaten alive.

The men cheer in anticipation as the walkers slowly approach a helpless Luke. They’re so caught up in the staged display, and there’s so much noise throughout the camp that they have yet to notice the fire spreading behind them in the distance.

Clementine dashes towards the scene in a panic, but she barely manages to move before a booming crash deafens her ears and she collapses from the wobbling ground beneath her. She braces her fall with her hands, stumbling forward. Then it goes quiet around her, and there’s a high-pitched ringing in her ears.

She lays there, unmoving, and her body feels numb. Slowly lifting her chin from the muddy path, Clementine notices the area around her has burst into flames, and everyone is now shouting in confusion.

A short distance next to her is the massive destroyed fuel tank positioned within the burning trees, and she realizes she had been standing the closest to it when the fire suddenly caused it to explode.

The ringing in her head soon begins to subside, and she hears distant voices fading in again. The crowd fans out after the explosion, but the walkers are still snarling somewhere nearby, and she forces herself to rise and continue running.

Ignoring the stunning pain throughout her body, Clementine raises her pistol and fires just before one of them manages to claw at Luke. She races toward him and continues to shoot at the same time, downing the walkers one by one.

“Clem!” Luke calls as she hurriedly vaults over the fence.

There’s so many growing flames that even if anyone is still paying attention through all the commotion, they’d be unlikely to see her through the thick grey smoke.

Clementine halts to shoot the last walker, and its neck loudly snaps backwards as blood splatters from the wound in its head.

Her knife was taken when they first arrived, so after tucking away the pistol, she scrambles to untie the ropes behind Luke’s back and the process takes longer than she hopes.

“I told you to leave me be and you start a goddamn fire!” Luke shouts in disbelief over the noise, peering past his shoulder while she stands behind him. “May have went a little overboard, don’t ya think?”

“Shut up,” she breathes as she loosens the last knot, but the relieved grin that creeps onto her lips is inevitable. Of course he would joke during a time like this. “Come on!” she gestures for him to follow.

Now that Clementine is seeing him up close, she briefly catches a glimpse of Luke’s split lip and bruised cheekbone. There’s a gash on his forehead as well, with streaks of dried blood trailing down from his hairline.

The heavy rain showers them as they race along the grass and back the way she came. The whole camp is in flames now, and they both know it will only continue to spread throughout the entire forest. All they have to do at this point is find a way out of here.

As they run, Luke and Clementine notice various men shouting at each other in the distance. They’re arguing about where the fire started and how it’s too late to stop it, as well as spluttering questions of Bennett’s whereabouts.

Luke and Clementine rush by unnoticed, but after that, they have no choice except to follow the main path since it’s the only clearing that isn’t completely on fire. They sprint past numerous burning cabins, before bullets start flying over their heads and they duck in unison.

As they round the corner of one of the buildings with their arms shielding their heads, Clementine spots a gunman a distance away and she instantly fires a shot between his eyes. The two of them don’t slow for a second, and Luke swiftly obtains the corpse’s shotgun as they rush past.

Reaching a clearing again, they both raise their weapons just as a voice shouts over the sparkling flames. “It’s the girl! She got out!”

Luke fires at the man’s head and he’s instantly knocked to the ground, while Clementine shoots her pistol at a straggling walker when she nearly collides with one. Then she remembers the settlement doesn’t have walls, and the burning place is only glowing brighter in the dark night sky. The noise from the explosion and repeated gunfire is sure to be attracting more their way, too.

“Spread out! Don’t let them get away!” further voices surround them in all directions, the entire area expanding into disarray.

More bullets pummel above Luke and Clementine as well as at their feet. They return fire while bounding through the camp, and numerous men are shot down along their path.

Alongside each other, they advance farther while fighting off both men and walkers. The fire has grown significantly in height, and they can barely see where they’re moving anymore. The heat is unbearable, and the thick smoke begins to agitate their lungs.

When no more figures can be seen through the flames, Luke and Clementine sprint around another corner in an attempt to get away.

Luke reloads his weapon, and they race down a slope with Clementine a distance ahead of him. They near the bottom of the hill, before Luke cries out to her, “Clem!”

She instantly whips around at the alarming sound of creaking wood behind her. She lifts her gaze to the leaning tree trunk towering over them. It groans, crushing the roof of the cabin next to it as it collapses. Sparks fly from the flaming branches as it lands, and Clementine shields her eyes with her forearm.

The scorching shrubbery rustles and more sparks disintegrate into the air. The burning tree interrupts Luke’s path, and Clementine can barely make out his figure on the other side. “Luke!” she coughs, her eyes stinging.

“Keep goin’! I’ll find another way around!” His voice is barely audible, and she feels it getting farther away.

Squinting, she peers through the flames, but they completely block her view. Reluctant to continue without him, Clementine turns again and figures she has no other choice.

She barely advances a few steps before a few limping figures round the corner from up ahead. A moment passes, and the growing trail of walkers doesn’t seem to be ending. They’re heading directly her way, their groaning chorus becoming louder.

Raising her pistol again, Clementine fires at them repeatedly. She shoots down as many as she can muster, but the dead begin closing in on her. There’s too many, and she can’t go around them with the enormous fallen tree behind her. The place is overrun with the dead.

Burning cabins are lined on either side of the path she’s on, and her gaze spots a ladder leading up to one of the rooftops just a few buildings ahead. She glances to it then back at the limping walkers stumbling closer.

With no other choice, Clementine sprints to it and hauls herself to the top of the ladder just before the horde reaches her place.

She scans the area from on top of the roof, shielding her eyes. The forest is illuminated with flames, and she can’t see any more gunmen in the distance. The base of the leaning tree from earlier is still planted in the ground, but the trunk had snapped directly in half, causing it to collapse on one side.

“Luke!” Clementine shouts. There’s no response, and she can’t spot anyone on the opposite side of it.

The swarm of walkers continue to snarl at her from down below. She’s surrounded, and the cabin is so low to the ground that their clawing arms can nearly reach her feet. Eyeing the rooftop of the next building, Clementine braces herself and leaps over the gap as the rain pours down on her.

Her body is so weak that she almost doesn’t make the jump, and one of her legs slips off the edge. Grunting, she pulls herself on top using all her strength. Her arms are covered in mud, as well as black streaks that have been smudged onto her skin from the ashes.

With strained effort, Clementine forces herself to stand again, but the surface of the roof beneath her begins to waver. When she takes another step, the planks snap under her feet and her entire body jerks from it. The surface burns from the scorching flames, and her weight only further weakens it.

The next thing she knows, the entirety of the roof gives in beneath her and Clementine loses her balance. She falls through and roughly lands on the ground level along with a burnt pile of debris. Her entire body throbs from the impact.

Smoke and dust erupts all around her, and remnants of the roof continue to shower down from above. Clementine’s vision becomes obscured, and she lays there in a heap while coughing repeatedly.

She’s trapped inside a burning building again, and there are walkers pursuing her just outside. With lungs burning, she’s so exhausted that she can barely find the strength in her to get up again.

She doesn’t know how long she stays there, but when she looks up to the interior of the burning cabin, there’s someone in the room with her. With her mind a haze, Clementine isn’t even sure whether she’s imagining things. A figure stands by the door a short distance away, and he’s _screaming_ at her.

“ _You burned it down_!” he bellows, and she instantly recognizes the husky voice.

Bennett stands hunched under the arch with rage boiling in his eyes. He holds the machete by his side, and it’s soaked in blood and guts. Clementine figures he must have followed her, and fought his way through the group of walkers that were lingering just outside the tiny cabin.

“You killed my people! You’ve ruined _everything_!” Bennett continues, but her mind only threatens to drift away from consciousness.

Clementine coughs again, shifting painfully on her hands and knees. When she slowly strains herself to stand again, she lifts her gaze to find Bennett already striding towards her.

He raises the machete, pulling his arm back, and Clementine ducks out of range just before he swings the blade.

Now on the other side of him, she hurriedly scrambles to remove the pistol from her jeans. She firmly aims the weapon at his backside, and fires. The expected bang doesn’t sound, and the gun only clicks softly instead. Clementine desperately pulls the trigger again in hope of a different response.

Bennett chuckles darkly, smirking at her worried expression. “Looks like you’re all out,” he observes while stepping towards her.

She backs up, and Clementine gasps when he swipes the blade again and it plunges into the wall directly next to her. Chunks of wood spring outwards from the impact, and the loud clash startles her. With rapid breaths, she darts out of the way instantly, and Bennett forcefully yanks the weapon out of the burning plank.

The walls around them creak loudly, and the weak flames within the room are sure to spread from the bright orange sparks fluttering in from outside.

“You like it?” he pants, facing her. “Took it off my own brother’s dead body,” he glances down at the machete by his side, and Clementine glares at him from under her eyelashes.

She remembers it. He had been wearing it holstered across his back that day. And Bennett, towering over her, holding that weapon as if it is his most prized possession… he looks like him. And it’s as if Clementine is seeing him alive again.

The next thing she knows, Clementine is shoved into the wall behind her and her back painfully collides with the surface. Bennett is tightly gripping onto her upper arms, and she struggles to push him off her. Her hands attempt to yank his shoulders back, but he only continues to fight back with greater strength. The machete is still in his hand, the blade held upright and inches away from her face.

Clementine grunts through gritted teeth as she violently claws her nails across his face. When Bennett shouts in pain, and his head turns from the impact, she kicks him in the stomach and he finally releases her.

Bennett stumbles backwards and the weapon loudly clatters across the floor. Clementine hardly has time to catch her breath while he doubles over from the blow.

When she lifts her chin again, Bennett’s elbow launches back and he swings his fist directly at her. Avoiding the returned hit, Clementine wobbles back and roughly trips over her feet in a panic.

He glares down at her on the floor, snarling. “I should’ve killed you sooner. As soon as we found you and that smartass friend of yours… runnin’ from us in that _godforsaken_ town!” Three red scratches have formed over his cheekbone, and the wound drips blood down his face. “Don’t you get it? _I have nothin’ left_!” he roars while stalking towards her.

Clementine scrambles backwards along the floor as various objects are thrown her way, and she hears glass of the window loudly shattering somewhere behind her. Her heart pelts faster against her ribcage.

A burning hatred nestles inside Bennett as he continues to stride forward with determination. His fists clench so tightly by his sides that his fingernails pierce his palms. “It’s all gone, and it’s _because of you_!”

There’s no where left for her to go, and as her backside nears the wall, he bends down and viciously clamps a hand around Clementine’s throat. Her head roughly slams into the surface behind her.

She cries out, and Bennett slowly drags her up against the wall until she’s pulled to her feet. “Things didn’t have to be this way,” he growls.

Clementine whimpers, and she struggles to breathe as his grip tightens around her neck.

“It could’ve gone differently, you know,” Bennett snarls through gritted teeth. “And just think… after I kill you, I’ll hunt down your friend, too… and I won’t stop until I finish what was started.”

She yelps when his hand jerks against her, pushing her harder into the wall.

Clementine’s pulse pummels in her ears, and she feels her head becoming cloudy with every passing second.

Her hand latches onto Bennett’s wrist as her other palm desperately feels around her for something… _anything_ she can use. Pain shoots through her fingertips when something sharp pierces her skin, then she remembers the broken window on the wall behind her.

With their faces only mere inches apart, Bennett continues to spit out vile words of blame as he slowly suffocates her. It feels like it’s never going to stop, and Clementine can hardly process what he’s saying anymore.

With her hand throbbing in pain, she grips the glass shard next to her and attempts to pull it off the window frame.

“My brother _died_ because of you!” Bennett lifts her higher against the wall until her feet barely touch the ground.

Warm blood drenches her palm, and she can feel when it gradually trails down her fingertips.

“It should’ve been you, Clementine!” Her eyes squeeze shut as he screams at the top of his lungs, “ _It should’ve been you_!”

Bennett howls in pain when the shard is lunged into his side, and his tightening grip on her instantly releases.

She tumbles to the ground as air finally fills her lungs again, coughing repeatedly while gasping for breath at the same time. Shifting on her hands and knees, Clementine groans from the aching pain around her neck, and she holds a hand to her throat.

Then she hears Bennett hissing through his teeth, and she looks up to the broken glass impaling his stomach. He holds his hands to the wound with blood filling his palms, and she glimpses at the machete laying on the ground only a few feet away.

Suddenly, her shoulders are shoved back by him, and Clementine attempts to roll away from his charge. She twists away just in time and falls onto her backside.

Bennett jerks closer, when she hastily scoots back on the floor and her fingertips reach the cold metal blade behind her. He lunges to crawl on top of her, but Clementine tightly grips the handle and swiftly slices the machete into the side of his neck just as he reaches her.

Bennett shrieks in agony and topples onto his back, blood spurting from the gaping wound.

Clementine quickly scrambles to straddle herself atop his cowering figure, and the sound of the blade hacking through flesh drowns out his blood-curdling screams.

Bennett’s alarming cries eventually fade away into nothing, but she only continues to plummet the machete into him, grunting repeatedly. And all she can think about, is how much she _craved_ this.

This entire time, so much rage has been contained inside of her, just building up to the brim with every passing day and screaming to get out.

Clementine had tried to kill him, back when she first found herself trapped here. Then Bennett had drugged her, and they were locked up for days against their will. He had tried to convince Luke that she was insane… that there was something wrong in her head because of what happened to her. He talked like she wasn’t even in the room with them, as if she hadn’t been there at all.

And _everyone_ … everyone she had come across, they wanted her. Yet, she was nothing to them. They taunted her, humiliated her like she was an object, _laughed_ when they forced her to look at the face of her own _fucking_ rapist.

It makes her sick to the stomach, and tears puddle in her eyes as she raises the machete above her head, over and over again… slashing into his lifeless corpse as blood sprays onto her skin.

She thinks about how he had pushed Luke _so much_ to the point where he felt he had no choice but to give up his own life for her, hardly even knowing if it would fix anything. They beat him, tried to use him as bait for the dead as if that’s what he was, as if he were less than human.

To say she hates him wouldn’t even begin to describe how he makes her feel. She _despises_ him, loathes him more than she’s ever felt about anything. And she lets the hurt pour out of her dying heart.

But most of all, she thinks about what they did to her.

Clementine had always been brave. She never used to show fear. Not until now, until after. They _ruined_ her. She’s something different now, and she can never come back from it.

And Bennett _knew_. Luke had made sure of it. He’d screamed at him about it, told him to rot in hell for being the kind of men they were, but he had only kept walking away, as if the truth didn’t affect him at all.

So Clementine repeatedly hacks the machete into Bennett’s limp form, and she’s shouting and crying all at the same time, grunting every time the blade meets his flesh again.

There’s _so much_ blood. It drenches her skin and her clothes, and all she sees is red.

Clementine doesn’t know how long it’s been when she finally stops.

She sits there afterwards, on the floor of an empty burning room, with a blood-soaked blade held limply in front of her, and the slaughtered corpse of a man who broke her.

It’s quiet, and she doesn’t feel anything anymore. Time continues to pass by, but it seems like nothing around her is moving. Her tears begin to dry on her face and it irritates her skin, but she doesn’t bother to wipe them away.

“Holy _shit_ …”

Clementine remains unmoving at the sound of Luke’s voice, only continuing to stare down at the machete in her lap.

“Clementine,” he says firmly, and Luke wonders if she even knows he’s there.

She doesn’t turn to him, but can see his figure urgently standing under the doorway a short distance next to her. His hands are gripping either side of the doorframe, as if he had just barged in. She hadn’t noticed.

The sound of his panting breaths fills the dire room, drowning out the previous silence. “Hey,” he breaths, “Clem! Come on, hon-- we gotta go.” Luke’s voice is rushed and shaky, yet his tone maintains a delicacy underneath.

Then everything that previously happened flows back to her at a slow pace. The camp is crumbling in flames all around them, and they’re sure to suffer the same fate if they stay any longer.

Clementine slowly rises to her feet, but her eyes refuse to meet Luke’s own. The blade slips from her fingers, and it clatters across the floor pathetically. She leaves the miserable weapon behind, and the image of Bennett’s brother along with it.

Luke rushes outside when she starts to walk after him, and Clementine calmly leaves the burning building with blood dripping from her fingertips.


	7. Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My song recommendation for this last chapter is ‘Landfill’ by Daughter. Please listen to it while reading to get you in the right feels! It really makes a difference.

_“Luke!” Clementine exclaims as she reaches the top of the grassy hill, and the light of the evening sun suddenly cascades down on her. “Luke, look. Do you see it?” she asks, pointing excitedly in the distance as she glances to him behind her._

_He jogs toward the hill, panting from their trek. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” he calls to her while raising a hand in the air. “You know I’m not as young as you are, right?”_

_She doesn’t seem to be listening to him, and is instead gazing outwards on the hilltop at the expansive green field that reaches the horizon in front of her. Her back remains turned to him, and Luke eventually arrives to stand beside her._

_“Well, would ya look at that,” he says with a grin while shielding his eyes from the blinding sunset. “Hell, I haven’t seen one of those in years.”_

_“You’ve seen them before?” Clementine asks in shock, peering up at him._

_He stares forward with a hand on his hip, observing the scenery. “Well, we had a few horses on the farm back home. They’re bigger than ponies, but yeah,” Luke responds. “Used to go ridin’ with my folks all the time, actually.”_

_“Yeah?” she grins warmly at the thought, imagining how much fun that must have been._

_“Yep,” he beams, “Weren’t so fun working in the stables, though. Had to do it as part of my chores.” Luke chuckles, “would take forever to get the smell off you.”_

_“I’ve never seen a pony before,” Clementine says softly with a hint of disappointment in her tone. Her gaze turns back to the wild animal munching on the grass a distance away from the hill._

_Its hair is a faded brown color with white spots all over it’s body, and has a light colored mane and tail that blows gently from the breeze. It seems to be completely oblivious to Luke and Clementine’s peering figures nearby._

_For a moment, Luke perks up in disbelief at her comment, but then he recalls when she had once told him that she lived in the city before this all started. Sometimes, he forgets how different their lives used to be from each other’s._

_“Man, you would’ve loved the country,” Luke sighs deeply. “Had all kinds of animals like this one livin’ with us, you know. Wide open spaces, a backyard the size of this field…” he reminisces his old home, and being here just reminds him of how much he loved it growing up._

_They stare ahead for a few soothing moments, before Luke excitedly motions for her to follow him. “Come on,” he says, “let’s get a better look.”_

_Clementine glances worriedly to him, but before she can protest, Luke is already jogging down the hill and she quickly runs after him as much as her little legs can carry her._

_They stalk across the vibrant grass, and Luke slows his pace as they begin to near the distracted animal. Clementine follows in his footsteps, careful not to make a sound._

_“Just keep nice and slow,” advises Luke in a gentle tone as he briefly turns back to her. “You don’t wanna startle her.” After reaching the animal’s side, he slowly extends an arm out and begins to stroke its long mane._

_The pony hardly reacts from Luke’s touch, and only continues to dig her snout into the grass as if they aren’t there. Her ears twitch a few times, and her tail momentarily flickers upwards._

_Clementine slows to a stop, halting a few feet away from him. With wide eyes and innocent wonder, she debates stepping any farther as she watches the scene unravel in front of her._

_“It’s okay… she won’t hurt you,” encourages Luke, and a soft smile lingers on his lips._

_She swallows her fear, eventually arriving by his side at a much slower pace. Clementine has never been so close to a wild animal before, especially one that is so much bigger than her. Hesitantly, her fingertips move to reach out, and soon she feels soft hair brushing underneath her palm._

_“There you go,” Luke praises with a beaming grin, and her hand continues to stroke the animal with rising confidence. “See? She’s friendly,” he says._

_“Wow…” Clementine gasps, observing the calm pony before her with fascination. “You think she’s been alone this whole time?” she asks._

_“Don’t know,” Luke answers honestly, shaking his head. He ponders her question while eyeing the peaceful animal. “It’s hard to tell.” After a moment, he bends down to pluck a couple of handfuls of grass from the ground._

_“Here,” Luke reaches a hand out to her, and Clementine hesitantly accepts the blades of greenery. Luke steps around to the front of the pony, and his hand is delicately placed between her ears. “Just… hold your hand out like this.”_

_Clementine watches intently as he feeds her, the grass soon disappearing from his outstretched hand. Then, he moves away so she can take his place._

_The pony huffs when she attempts to follow Luke’s simple demonstration, and Clementine recoils from the startling noise. Worriedly glancing to Luke, he gives her an encouraging nod and she reaches her palm out again at a slower pace._

_She briefly sniffs the grass in Clementine’s hand, before moving to hungrily consume the food held out to her. A proud grim forms on the girl’s face, and her rapid heartrate finally relaxes. “She’s beautiful,” she breaths with brimming admiration._

_“Yeah, she is,” agrees Luke as he stands a step back with his hands on his hips._

_After a minute, Clementine retracts her arm and reaches up to repeatedly brush her palm down the animal’s snout, and the pony happily neighs in response._

_Luke observes the heart-warming scene before him, and his adoring smile refuses to waver. It’s strange how she can easily slay countless walkers in one moment, then completely lose herself in something so pure the next._

_It’s silent between them for a while, before a troubled frown suddenly forms on Clementine’s lips and her shoulders fall in defeat. “It’s sad,” she says simply, and Luke is taken aback by her somber tone._

_“What’s sad?” he asks curiously, shifting his stance._

_She doesn’t speak for a moment, and her gaze remains far from his own. “No one ever sees animals like these anymore,” ponders Clementine. “I mean, what if one day… they’re all gone?” She thinks about how fond she used to be of animals when she was younger, and how she would’ve loved to have a pet like this back in Georgia._

_Luke knows she’s worrying about the countless dead that roam the tainted earth, but something within oddly prevents him from wanting to acknowledge it with her._

_“Well, it’s just like people,” he begins. “Some of them die, but then others take their place. And it all goes around again.” Luke is fully aware that Clementine knows more about the harsh world than a girl her age should, but he finds this moment is too precious to be remembering reality._

_She considers his explanation, shrugging. “I guess so.”_

_Luke smirks softly, then gestures a hand out to her. “Come on,” he murmurs quietly, and he nods in the opposite direction when Clementine looks up at him with big eyes. “We should keep movin’.”_

_She exhales disappointedly, then eyes the stunning steed next to her with longing. Luke can tell she’s reluctant to leave her behind, but they both know there’s nothing they can do for the animal. Neither of them choose to say anything about it._

_The pony neighs again as Clementine strokes her one last time, and Luke wraps a comforting arm around the little girl’s shoulders when she turns around. They leave the opposite way they came, and continue on their never-ending path towards a better tomorrow._

* * *

Luke’s hand cradles her own as he gently wraps the bandage around Clementine’s palm, and she watches quietly as the wound disappears from view. He doesn’t speak, and neither does she, but they both find solace in the silence after everything that happened the night before.

They sit on chairs opposite from each other, and Clementine slightly leans forward as her arm extends towards him. He works with a soft delicacy in his touch, slowly wrapping the material around her thumb and down to her wrist.

The cut lengthens all the way across her palm, and the gaping wound from the glass is so large that her flesh had become exposed to air. Luke cleaned it as much as he could with the small amount of resources they had found, and he hopes it will be enough to at least stop the bleeding.

He had wiped most of the dried blood from her palm without aggravating it too much, but the rest of Clementine’s body remains soaked in it. It’s difficult to tell the color of what her shirt used to be, and her neck and face appear as if she had been smeared in guts. Her skin is completely painted with blood, and red streaks trail all the way down her arms.

It’s only been a few hours since they fled Bennett’s burning camp as it crumbled to the ground in disarray behind them. They barely came out of there in one piece, but had pushed themselves to get as far away from it as possible, despite their exhaustion.

They’d raced through the dark forest alongside each other until their crippling legs could hardly carry them anymore, and had walked the rest of the way until the sun came up.

They haven’t slept or eaten in days, especially Clementine. But neither of them complain about how much their bodies ache. Any survivors from the camp could still be following them if they’re determined enough. It’s unlikely that anyone else had even made it out alive, but they refuse to take the risk of making themselves vulnerable.

When noon came around, and the sun had risen to its peak in the sky, Luke and Clementine had followed the forest’s mossy train tracks that eventually emerged out of the woods and into a clearing. They walked along it with no other sense of direction, and had eventually come across a small isolated building on the side of the railroad.

They figured they had made it far enough away, and taking a break from their hike would be beyond relieving for the both of them. So, they decided to rest inside for a while.

Someone had lived here, at one point in time. Luke and Clementine had discovered a torn-up mattress on the floor while investigating the destroyed place, but a scribbled message written on the walls states that whoever they were had opted to move on elsewhere. It was signed at the bottom, and they only assume it had been written for a loved one.

There was no food left behind, but Luke and Clementine were lucky enough to find just enough healing materials for them within the various objects littered throughout the building. They figured maybe the previous resident left in a hurry, or they had too much supplies to carry it all with them. There’s no way of knowing, and just the thought of the various possibilies are haunting.

When they got here, Luke had suggested her hand be taken care of in order to prevent infection. He noticed the wound a long time ago, and he worries about how much blood she already lost from it. Luke insisted, but Clementine was reluctant to waste time and resources on something she found so insignificant.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” she had said passively without even turning to look at him.

“ _You’re not fine_ ,” he sighed tiredly, and he wasn’t even sure whether he was talking about her hand anymore.

Clementine told him that it was only a cut, and he could have predicted she’d be so careless. It was a typical thing for her to say, and he’d been tempted to tell her how stubborn she can be for the hundredth time in their lives. But eventually she let him, because she knows Luke too well to know that he wasn’t going to let it go.

When he’s finished wrapping up her hand, Clementine points out that he doesn’t look any better than she does, so she’s quick to volunteer in returning the favour. It’s the least they can do for each other after everything that’s happened.

So, Clementine leans forward in her chair to delicately raise a cloth to the gash in Luke’s forehead, and her other hand holds the hair away from his face. He hisses in pain from the contact, and she quickly recoils.

“Sorry,” she whispers, and he apologetically encourages her to continue.

Ever since they left the camp, Luke has been eyeing Clementine more than usual. They haven’t talked about what happened. In fact, they’ve hardly spoken at all. But the thick layer of blood she wears bothers him, and his mind can only wonder whether she thinks about the same thing.

He doesn’t know what happened after they got separated back at the camp. But when he eventually found her, it didn’t take long for him to piece everything together. It shocked him briefly, but finally laying eyes on Bennett’s lifeless body was a sight Luke had even found satisfying after everything the man had put them through.

And seeing Clementine like that, holding a blood-soaked machete in her hand with a slaughtered body directly next to her… it’s not something he had ever hoped to see.

They’ve known each other since she was young. She’s a sweet girl, and Luke knows she wouldn’t hurt someone unless they wronged her in some way. But Bennett deserved it, and a part of Luke wishes he could have done it himself.

He watches her as Clementine continues to dab the bleeding wound on his forehead, but she’s too focused to notice. She bites her lip in concentration, and Luke sorrowfully looks away again.

She’s killed people before, but not like that. She’s never murdered someone so brutally, it was always just a simple bullet. Luke can only imagine how the man must have made her feel, to cause her to do something like that. But after it all, he’s just glad that neither of them have to look at Bennett’s face again.

Luke is suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Clementine pulls away from him, gradually lowering her arm.

“All done,” she murmurs just above a whisper, and a tender smile flickers across her lips.

He’d been so out of it that he’s not even sure how long it’s been since she started. Luke slowly follows when she rises to stand, and the scraping of the chairs along the floor interrupts the silence.

As Clementine tells him there isn’t much she can do for the rest of the bruises on his face, he finds himself absentmindedly raising his hands to her temples and her words die on her lips.

He gently pulls her head down to kiss the top of her hat, and Clementine closes her eyes after a moment, admiring the unexpected gesture.

He wants to tell her that he’s sorry. He’s _so very_ sorry. For everything this horrible world has done to her, but they both find that the simple action speaks a million words. The words they don’t say fill the room on their own. And after everything that’s happened, and all the horrors they’ve been through together, Luke cherishes the fact that in this moment, she is finally safe with him.

* * *

They’ve been walking for nearly a day. It’s almost sunset, and it’s been hours since they left the abandoned building. Even though they’re far from the camp, neither of them felt safe staying there overnight. An isolated shack out in the open is sure to give away their position to anyone close by, and they prefer to stay away from people as much as possible.

So, Luke and Clementine continue to follow the train tracks with aching feet, and it serves as their only form of guidance while moving aimlessly in the middle of nowhere. Nothing can be seen for miles except for the countless trees that surround them in all directions. Neither of them know where they are, but they’re sure the railroad will lead somewhere eventually.

They’ve hardly spoken throughout the day, and all that can be heard for a long time is the pebbles underneath the tracks crunching from their footsteps.

Clementine trails behind him as they walk, and hours pass before one of them finally speaks. “Is this what we’ve become?” she suddenly asks, and Luke turns around when he realizes that she’s stopped.

“What do you mean?” His voice is hoarse from not using it for so long.

She locks eyes with him, and her expression remains blank. “Killers,” she says simply.

It’s what Bennett had constantly told her, ever since Luke and Clementine unfortunately found themselves in his presence. The quiet day has only allowed her thoughts to wander farther than they should, and it isn’t until now that she wonders if maybe he was right.

Luke only stares at her as he’s taken aback by her question. Then his gaze focuses on her red stained clothes and blood-covered face, and he’s not sure how to truthfully respond to that. “Clem…” he begins, before she interrupts him.

“We just… _destroyed_ an entire camp,” Clementine scoffs with disbelief, as if she doesn’t even believe her own words. “and _everyone_ in it.”

Then the reality of the situation hits him, too. He hadn’t really thought about it like that. They were just prisoners trying to get out, who had been innocent from the start. But at the same time, her words are disturbingly true. Still, he refuses to let either of them blame themselves.

“We did what we had to do,” Luke affirms, his voice tired from their trek. “You know that.”

Clementine nods faintly while chewing on her lip, but he knows she’s unconvinced by his answer. She looks down to pick at her fingernails, and contemplatively shifts to lean into one hip.

“You know, when I was a kid… I was scared of people like me,” she laments softly, before looking up at Luke again. “Like us.”

His eyebrows crease with concern, stepping towards her in an instant. “Hey…” he tightly grips her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “You _saved_ me. And those people, they… they didn’t _deserve_ to live, Clem.”

“I know,” she nods again. “It’s just… everyone always told me to stay away from bad people,” her eyeline wavers back down to the ground, as if she is ashamed. “The ones who hurt other people.” Clementine shakes her head with hurt in her eyes, and her faltering voice comes out just above a whisper. “I didn’t want to become that.”

Luke can’t help becoming bothered by her reflective words, but he finds himself feeling deeply for her. She is a different person than she once was, and he wishes she never had to grow up. But Clementine is the last person that should be feeling guilty for anything. If only she could see things the way he does.

“And now…” she doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. They both know how it ends. Clementine sighs, shrugging with hopelessness. “I don’t know who we are anymore.”

“Clem, look at me,” Luke coaxes, tightening his grip on her shoulders. “We got out of there… _alive_. Both of us,” he reassures. “‘Kay, it’s just us, it’s _always_ been us. And-- and _no one_ is gonna take that away, you hear?” They lock eyes for a few tense moments. “It’s you and me now.”

Those simple words have been repeated between them so many times before, and after all these years, it never fails to give her comfort, no matter the circumstances. Clementine stares back at him with a broken expression, and she knows deep down that Luke is right.

They’re family. It’s been that way for as long as they can remember. And for a while, she didn’t know what that meant anymore. Not until now. She had almost forgotten what it felt like, to have someone that makes her think of home, just from simply hearing their name.

Clementine’s eyes flicker up at Luke once more, and she finally speaks again. “Yeah,” she says. “You and me,” and the soft smile she gives him is enough to warm his aching heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story until the end, and to those who have taken the time to leave their thoughtful reviews. Until Tomorrow is officially complete! I hope to continue writing for this fandom, as I absolutely loved making this one!


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